Carthaki Exiles
by Russet W
Summary: three former carthaki slaves go to tortall where they discover that there is more to life- and to themselves. PG-13 for languge. Whoa, yes people, i am still alive and have Chapter 12 with me, if you're still willing to read it. rr! thanx!
1. A Fresh Start

Hey- um, well this is my first fanfic so please, be brutally honest.  
  
Disclaimer: If you can recognize anything in my story, than it belongs to the wonderful and talented Tamora Peirce. If you don't recognize it, than it is most likely one of my own characters. And since pretty much every angle has been covered, if I borrowed any of ya'lls characters or ideas, please let me know ASAP! I really didn't mean to. Thanx.  
  
Chapter 1: A Fresh Start  
  
  
  
The three sat upon the stone walkway near the door of an inn- The Dancing Dove. They all wore simple cotton breeches and shirts, for it was just Midsummer the day before last. The weather would stay this warm for another moon at least...  
  
The failing light meant rising shouts of mirth and merry from inside the tavern. All very thin, skin and bones really, the children talked quietly to each other and snacked upon a loaf of bread and a few apples they spent their day thieving. The youngest, a girl, kept her older brothers from causing too much of a riot. The Guard was about and alert, for the occasional disruptions- threats and fights- around the capital became more and more frequent. A few even talked about a new anti- monarch front that was developing and causing the trouble that kept many tense, and for the even more cautious, in their homes as much as possible.  
  
"Will you two keep it down?" the worried girl pressed. "The Guard will come and question us again." She looked into their identical eyes. "Is that what you want?"  
  
"Willow, we-", the largest of the three started, but soon rethought his remark. "Sorry. We'll calm down. It's just so hard. I mean, we finally made it to Corus!" He had a point. The spent six months traveling from town to village to fief to city, just to reach their final destination. They figured if it was anything like it sounded, they might just fit it, unlike everywhere else.  
  
"You know, they could be nicer when they bring people in to question them." the oldest, quietist and middle- sized one thought out loud.  
  
"Oh yeah- because it's good manners to be polite and proper when you're interrogating three young thieves." the girl called Willow sarcastically told him.  
  
"Ah- touché`." The biggest one poked his older bother, named River. playfully.  
  
"Who let you butt in Wind?"  
  
"Me." There was nothing they could say to that. Wind was they most outspoken, and it often got them in trouble, especially with the law. He seemed to give himself supreme authority when it came to his siblings.  
  
For a while they just continued talking. Anyone looking at them would just think, 'Three teenage pickpockets enjoying a days reward' Upon closer inspection, you see that the boys looked almost exactly alike, but for the one that was bigger, his hair was in waves, not curls. The girl looked like them too, and they all had the same raven-colored curls and the lavender eyes. They had their belongings- a few small saddlebags, two bows and quivers, and a tiny leather chest- out in the open beside them. The middle-sized triplet also carried daggers, but only an expert could have found them in his hiding places  
  
'None of it is of real value so they feel free to leave it visible.' ,a bystander might conclude. But these children had their own, special reasons for being so nonchalant about their baggage  
  
You see, anyone with the gift could sense, if not fully see, an aura about these triplets. It wasn't the gift, but a magical presence filled the air around them.  
  
Wind, the biggest and middle- aged one, could move things with his thoughts, sometimes if he meant to or not. River, the oldest, could read anyone's mind. The girl, Willow, could see through things and saw perfectly well in the dark.  
  
That's mainly why they came to Tortall, to Corus. Surely, in such a big city with so much diversity, they wouldn't mind three young kids with a secret. Would they?  
  
These thoughts and similar ones ran through the teenager's minds the whole trip there. They took jobs where they could get them, slept wherever was dry, and ate when food was available (mostly it wasn't) on the harsh trip to the capital. They had no horses, so they earned money for food and board in places they stopped at. After about six months, they paid a peddler for provisions and three pairs of new boots,. then bargained with a wagon train headed for the city to let them join. They paid two silver nobles (about all the rest they had) for a place in the wagons at night and access to food for two weeks, the duration of the rest of the trip. They arrived that very morning, swiped bread, cheese, apples, and dried jerky, then took off to tour their new home. The cheese and most of the jerky was eaten for lunch, and now they finished off the bread and fruit. The remnants of the jerky was being preserved for breakfast. Then they would go find work.  
  
Willow, the voice of reason, wondered, 'How will we find a place to sleep?' She decided to ask her brothers.  
  
"Have either of you thought as to where we'll sleep tonight?" By the looks on their faces, they hadn't considered that.  
  
"Got any money left?" ,River asked, turning out his pockets and discovering only a few coppers. The other two were only able to add three more coppers to his four.  
  
"Not even a silver noble." ,Willow sighed.  
  
"Barely half.", Wind stated.  
  
"Well, we can't get a room anywhere for that...probably not even a place in a barn or stable.", River said.  
  
"Then what are we gonna do?", Wind asked.  
  
As if on cue, the door to the inn opened and accidentally bumped into their leather box. Light streamed into the dying twilight and three pairs of amethyst eyes, so used to the dimness, had to adjust.  
  
Then a face peered around the door and saw the chest they had hit. "Gods! I'm sorry. I hope I didn't damage it." ,a soft feminine voice apologized. Their eyes had finally focused, but there was too much light around her face to make out any features. She stepped away from the door and it closed, then she got a better look at their chest. "Oh- I'm afraid I scratched the leather. Please, let me pay you for it." She reached for her belt purse.  
  
Willow quickly responded.  
  
"No- Lady, please! It is nothing- a tiny blemish."  
  
"I insist." While she dug for a copper, the kids got better look at her. For, although she didn't dress it, (she wore simple breeches and a shirt- the same as they) something about this girl radiated power. Obviously a noble.  
  
Her brown hair, is soft curls like theirs, fell to her shoulders and rested there. She had a round face, blue eyes, and a completely stubborn chin. She seemed familiar, but they saw so many people on the way to Corus....  
  
She had produced three silver nobles and held them out to Willow.  
  
"Lady- No! The chest itself is worth- well, a quarter of that! It's far too much!"  
  
"Oh, please. Let me pay or-" She looked at the shape they were in."- at least let me buy you dinner." , she persisted.  
  
"We've already eaten." ,Willow refused the offer. "Thank you, Kind Lady, for the gesture, but the trunk, and us, aren't worth so much trouble."  
  
"I'm sure that's not true."  
  
"No Lady, Willow's right." ,River spoke up. "That case isn't worth more than ..five coppers, tops."  
  
"I meant about you three. What brings you to Corus?"  
  
"How do you know we're travelers?" ,Wind chimed in, curious.  
  
"Saddlebags. Normally, people don't carry their belongings with them everywhere they go. Plus you have that 'Just Traveled' look. I've done a bit of traveling myself. You must be tired. Where did you come from?"  
  
The teenagers stared at this young woman who was rambling. 'She has to be some kind of noble.' , they simultaneously thought. 'Only nobles just mindlessly ramble like that.'  
  
"Carthak, Lady. We came here because work was scarce." 'That was partially true', Willow said, then thought to herself.  
  
"Oh- well. I apologize for that. I'm afraid I put that idea in Kaddar's head. I had the best intentions at heart at the time, when I suggested about freeing the slaves, but I'm afraid I overlooked that there would be a job shortage afterwards. I send my dearest apologies to all three of you."  
  
They just gaped at this MAD noble.  
  
"Oh, silly me! I'm Veralidaine Sarrasri. Please call me Daine ,though."  
  
"The.....the WILDMAGE!" ,Willow stuttered.  
  
"Who?" , Wind asked, then it hit him. "wait...........OH GODS! Minos, Mithros, and Shakith!" He looked around frantically until River grabbed his shoulder without even looking at him. Wind calmed down a bit, but still looked rather disoriented.  
  
"Folks the likes of you should worry yourselves with our leather chest , my Lady." ,Willow persisted. "We appreciate it really we do, but I fear we must be going. It is getting rather dark and we need to find ourselves a place to sleep. Much thanks, Lady. We'll take our leave now." Willow and River began to gather their stuff. Wind still stood there, stupidly staring at Daine.  
  
"Wind!" ,River snapped. "Take your quiver," He handed it to Wind who held it in his hands, and looked at it. ", and your bow, and bag and lets go." River took charge. Willow may talk to the superiors, and Wind may talk to equals, but River could get his siblings attention and keep it until he wished. (Or until Wind saw something shiny.)  
  
They started to leave, but a new voice commanded their attention.  
  
"Daine! What's going on?" , a rough, mans voice asked. "Who are your friends? Wait! Let me introduce myself. I'm Numair." They stopped and Willow came back looking a bit annoyed.  
  
"We know all about you Master Saliman, and about Lady Sarrasri. And, frankly, we don't understand why two people who were strong and smart enough to bring down Orzone and his palace by bringing dead animal bones back to life and making fake people would want to talk to us. And if what I've heard on the way is true- Gods I hope not- me and my brothers would rather not talk to a person who survived the Divine Realms- The Sea of Sand, The Dragonlands, and a meeting with Chaos Herself. I am terribly sorry for my rudeness but my brothers and I have to start looking for a place to sleep tonight or we may not be awake enough to find work tomorrow." ,Willow lectured, then felt horrible about. She's not one to scold (Unless it was Wind) and she just yelled at a man who turned an enemy into an apple tree and a girl who has enough influence over the emperor of a country to make him release to slaves- a tradition in their country for thousands of years!  
  
She realized the full extent of what she'd just done, dropped her things and got on her knees.  
  
"Nobility, I-" ,she began, her old slave life taking over. "Forgive this unworthy one nobility. One knew not what one was doing. Be merciful please!" She pleaded for mercy, but looked only at their well- shod feet, for if she dared to look higher, they'd kill her on the spot for sure. (not that she wasn't dead already for that stunt she just pulled!)  
  
  
  
"OK then, we forgive you." , the Giraffe- like mage answered. "Now, stand please." ,then he added in a whisper " we're making a scene."  
  
She didn't stand but cautiously looked at his face. Even in the dim lighting, she could see every aspect of it, and nothing threatened punishment.  
  
Ever so slowly, she gathered her saddlebag and quiver, then rose.  
  
"You're........You're not going to punish my insolence?" , she stammered, disbelief enveloping her. Daine shook her head, throwing curls over her shoulder, then back again. " Everyone's entitled to their own opinion. We respect yours."  
  
"But, I, um....well, we, uh-"  
  
"Carthak goes upon a different set of rules than we do here." ,the Wildmage explained, slight smile in her face. "You know Numair?" ,she asked him. "I knew we made some folks nervous, but not that nervous." She giggled.  
  
Willow began to understand that there was far more to this country on the way to Corus, but now she just couldn't get why two mages who bring down evil empires, would walk about like regular people. This would take some consideration. There was far more to these two than meets the eye.  
  
She turned to look at River and Wind, only to discover them tucked down in a groveling position and showed no sign of moving. Even with her eyesight, she could only barely see their shallow, sparse breathing. They were terrified.  
  
"Excuse me for a moment, Sir, Lady." She walked over to where he brothers cowered, grabbed one ear on each and stood them up, rather forcefully.  
  
"Ow, Ow, Ow, Ow!" , they whined together, acting like two year old babies, rather than the fifteen- year- olds that they were.  
  
"Are you INSANE?!" ,River asked , smacking her hand away and rubbing his sore earlobe. "They can have us arrested, whipped, probably killed, and you look them in the eye?"  
  
"River, they aren't like Lady Sheera. They're..........different."  
  
"Well obviously! Otherwise you wouldn't have live long enough to beg forgiveness." ,Wind piped up.  
  
While they were talking, Daine explained to Numair what had happened and he replied with a laugh. That hearty chuckle is what turned all three around to face the 'different' nobles.  
  
Numair and Daine then insisted on buying all of them a tankard of lemonade at the inn.  
  
"Say yes. Whatever will make them feel better." ,River whispered. "That way, we may not get beaten."  
  
"I'm telling you, they aren't like that. And if anything, we should be bribing them." ,Willow whispered in reply. "Yes, Nobilities. Whatever you wish." She accepted their offer.  
  
"Please don't use that 'Nobility' nonsense. Friends don't bother with such formalities." ,Daine said.  
  
The thought that two of the most powerful people in the universe wanted their friendship, and was offering theirs in return, was absolutely mind boggling for Willow, River, and Wind.  
  
Numair held open the inn door, so the three carefully filed in behind Daine.  
  
A few turned to stare at the friends of the Wildmage, but she just smiled and walked to a quieter corner of the tavern. Numair ordered lemonade for all of them from a young man called Geoff.  
  
The three sat in amazement, answering the nobles' questions and just sipping on their tart lemonades occasionally, wondering if they would snap out of it in a moment and realize that it had all been an odd dream.  
  
  
  
  
  
~Authors note~ so be honest. is this worth continuing? Even if I get only 1 good review, I'll know I have a fan and I'll add. so please click the blue box. also- flamers are ok, but I believe constructive criticism is more helpful. the title is also a work in progress, so any suggestions are more than welcome. thanx! 


	2. The Midnight Underground

A/N here I go again! Remember- read and review and, well, you know the drill.  
  
Chapter Two: The Midnight Underground  
  
"So you really were slaves?" Numair asked, disbelieving them.  
  
"Yea, but only for, uh, seven years, I think." Wind replied. They knew they were lucky. Many had to do slave work from the moment they were old and strong enough until the day the Dark God blessed them and relieved them from the life they were born into.  
  
"But you're far older than seven." Daine stated.  
  
They all still sat at their corner table in the Inn slash Tavern that was the Dancing Dove. This conversation came after about four tankards of lemonades and two hours of previous questions from the mages and answers from the triplets.  
  
"Only seven years?" Numair muttered.  
  
"Well we weren't born slaves. After mother died, we were left with Grandam, but she did have enough money to support all three of us, and her, so we had to get work. Slavery was the only thing available at the time that gave you food and shelter, even if no money was involved. Then one day, our widowed mistress said we weren't allowed to work for her anymore. Grandam had passed, so there was nothing left for us there. Not to mention we hadn't been able to find work. No one would take us on." Willow explained. None of them wanted to admit about why would give them a job. When Kaddar freed the slaves, their secret got out and no one hires three freaks to work for them.  
  
The triplets were really quiet for a while.  
  
Daine finally broke their uncomfortable silence.  
  
"Do you want to come work for us? If you know anything about horses, we have need for stable hands."  
  
The three of them brightened up considerably.  
  
"Yes Lady, we know plenty about horses, and tack." Wind said. He looked at his brother and sister and could tell what they were thinking. "We'd love to work for you."  
  
"Great! We'll have to tell Stefan. He'll tell you where to work."  
  
"Who's Stefan?" Willow asked, worried. She had hoped that they would work directly for Daine and Numair.  
  
"The head hostler. You'll probably take care of the extra knights mounts, or perhaps spare Rider ponies. They're feisty, I warn you." Daine sipped her lemonade.  
  
All three of the teenagers wondered the same thing, but only River was able to ask the obvious, yet vital question.  
  
"Where are we working?"  
  
"The stables- oh. The Palace stables." Numair said it as if painfully obvious.  
  
The PALACE!  
  
They were speechless. For three former Carthaki slaves, a chance to work for the famed King Jonathan of Tortall, well in his stables anyway, was the greatest honor and privilege the Gods could ever bestow. Plus they would be getting paid.  
  
You could stay in the loft, or if you prefer, the servants wing. It's rather nice, if I do say so myself. And if you are good with the animals, Stefan will pay, well, anything really. Good hands are hard to come by, and really good ones are worth their weight in gold around a city like Corus. All they have are soft merchants sons who won't soil their hands." She said it with a smile, but you could hear contempt in her voice.  
  
Willow gathered up her courage to mention it. "Lady, you shouldn't speak of other nobles that way, if you don't mind me saying so."  
  
Daine laughed. "Oh- Willow you're a riot!" Willow felt a bit hurt. She didn't see what was so damn funny. "I hate most nobles. And I wasn't born one. I was born of a midwife, in a village near Scanra, in an entirely different country. After her and my Granda's death, me and my horse, Cloud, came to Tortall with a few friends we met along the way." She squeezed Numair's hand and smiled at him. (They were holding hands and had set them on the table.) "I didn't even know Carthak existed until I came here." That surprised them. Why, they had always known of Tortall and its surrounding countries!  
  
Something else was bothering Wind that he thought he would mention.  
  
"Aren't your parents. well, Gods?"  
  
"Well, my Da always was. He pleaded with the Dark God to bring Ma with him to his lands. She became the Green Lady. I was asked to stay there, in the Divine Realms, but felt that I would be of more use here." That was something none of them believed, but just decided they wouldn't bring up.  
  
"And you've talked to GODS before?"  
  
"Yes. Chaos, Mithros, The Goddess, Kidunka, The Graveyard Hag, my parents of course.. The Black God, oh and my mentor, The Badger God." She listed it as if it was all trivial, as if they were close, personal friends, and like it was unimportant. "Plus all the Animal and Tree Gods we met along the way."  
  
Bells then chimed the half-hour (nine thirty) "It's approaching my bedtime. I guess we can stay here tonight, if that's ok with you. We can talk to Stefan in the morning." He beckoned Geoff to their table and handed him two gold nobles. "Here- two rooms, preferably in the back please."  
  
An anxiety was eased in Wind, Willow, and Rivers mind.  
  
1: Where they would sleep.  
  
2: How they would pay.  
  
They were escorted to a stairwell and were halfway up it when a group of four men (or women: they couldn't really tell) wearing all black, with masks and gloves, stormed into the room, all with long, sharp-looking Yamani swords.  
  
"Put all your valuables in these bags or else!" One of the all black thieves commanded. He held out a gray sack and all the other ones pulled out similar bags.  
  
No one moved. The thief who spoke grabbed a nearby waitress and put the blade against her throat. "Do it!" he screamed. Still no movement.  
  
A trickle of blood ran down the length of the blade. The waitress clenched her eyes shut and gritted her teeth. She didn't dare move anything else.  
  
Slowly, men and women alike started to remove their jewelry and purses and place them in the sacks.  
  
"FASTER!" the robber who kept speaking yelled at everyone. At the same time, he beheaded that poor waitress.  
  
Willow stopped considering and decided to do something after that. She turned to look at River, but saw Daine (or where she would have been standing) as a half-changed cat-girl.  
  
Then a very large feline, a tiger actually, leapt over the stair rail and mauled the nearest black- attired thief supporting a pillowcase.  
  
They went down fighting, and then with one swipe of her large paws, she smacked him across the face. They no longer moved. At all. She got up and then everyone but her and Numair froze where they stood.  
  
The screaming that began at the appearance of a tiger from the stairwell, stopped.  
  
Numair put his arms down. He walked down to the main floor and looked at the all-black man who killed the waitress right in the face (or mask).  
  
"Unfreeze me scum!" the man yelled, fighting the spell. "My master will make you regret this fatal mistake with the lives of all that you love!"  
  
"And how do you propose he'll do that?" Numair threatened. Daine trotted over to him and rubbed against his legs like a housecat. Then she growled at the frozen burglar. He didn't seem intimidated.  
  
"Ah- the Wildmage." He drawled, mildly impressed. "And her pet magician- Saliman." He said pet and Saliman with extreme distaste.  
  
"A black robe, don't forget. Which means I can tie you into a pretzel, suffocate you without getting within 5 feet, and turn you into a sniveling little lapdog all before you could ever take in a deep breath." Numair hissed into the thief's face.  
  
A few around the inn gasped. Everyone knew of Numair Saliman and what he could do, but to hear him threaten to do it, well.it was rather frightening.  
  
"Now, why are you here maggot?" He asked, spitting the words into his face.  
  
"To.to," the man fought to say the words. (It's fair difficult to speak when your entire body is frozen in place.)  
  
"Well, go on- spit it out!"  
  
"To let the common people know of our master and his plans. We are here to strike fear into the hearts of the people at the mere thought of him and his followers. To let them have a chance to join his forces because you'll want to be on the right side when it all begins. We are the Midnight Underground and our leader is-" then he started to gasp for air. You could see he body shake with the failing effort to move his arms. Then he stopped. Stopped moving. Stopped Talking. Stopped breathing. He was dead.  
  
Numair immediately lifted the spell. The man, and all the other remaining thieves collapsed, all dead.  
  
"Oh. I do hate that bedamned death spell. Kills the best of informants, it seems." Numair muttered under his breath.  
  
Meanwhile, while in freezing everyone but himself and Daine, the triplets fought the spell also. They were relieved when he lifted.  
  
"Oh, well, let's never piss him off, ok?" Wind said, jokingly, but his brother and sister nodded their heads in agreement rather somberly.  
  
Then Daine padded over, grabbed her bag in her giant teeth and went into another room. Numair gave orders to have the thieves taken away and seen that they were dealt with accordingly (probably burnt publicly) and that the Waitress has a memorial service at The Goddesses very own Temple. "She did nothing wrong. Make sure that her family is informed promptly as well please." A few men nodded and began to remove the bodies. Another grabbed the bags and started to return the valuables the thieves almost got away with.  
  
The Black Robe walked to the staircase. "Well that was semi- informative. At least we know the name of the organization- The Midnight Underground."  
  
Daine emerged from a darkened doorway as a human and fully clothed.  
  
"If it's ok with you, I'd rather walk to the castle tonight instead of staying here with all this excitement." Daine said. Willow, Wind, and River nodded a hasty agreement. "Good. I know a good shortcut to the Temple District and that leads straight to Palace Way. We'll be there in no time."  
  
They bid Geoff a quick farewell, apologized, gathered themselves and their belongings, and then finally slipped out the back.  
  
They ended up in an alley and started walking, a bit quiet first, but then started talking about the triplets past, present, and future again.  
  
"If you don't mind my saying so, " Daine asked. ", how did you expect to get by with only bows and arrows in a place like Corus?"  
  
"Well, you see Lady-" Willow started.  
  
"Daine, Willow. Just Daine."  
  
"Well, uh Daine, Wind and I are a fair good shot. Plus, River has daggers."  
  
"Nine of 'em. And I'm pretty good with 'em, if I do say so myself." Willow smiled. River never bragged- to ANYONE- about his talent before. It was an understatement though. Mother taught him how to cut a flea in half (in midair no less!) with daggers after he couldn't master the bow like her and Wind.  
  
"We also know, well, every kind of unarmed combat. Mother taught us very young and Grandam used to drill us everyday after she got custody of us. Now we make ourselves practice- you know- to keep in shape."  
  
"Impressive, but you'll still need to protect yourselves other ways. A group could come up and maul you with you ever knowing they were there." Numair explained. They had heard it all before and just smiled to themselves. They knew they could never be snuck up on.  
  
"How did your mother know all about bows and daggers and the like. They don't teach commoners in Carthak such things."  
  
"Well she wasn't from Carthak, you see. She always said she was a well- learned traveler. Grandam wasn't our real grandmother. Just a good friend of Mothers. She came from Tortall, Mother did. From- what was it.oh, Olau. Barony Olau. Always bragging about apples for some reason." Willow trailed off, smiling and remembering her mothers voice saying they would one day go to Tortall, eat Barony Olau apples and meet the king. But that was all a fairy tale she told them, for a story you tell children at bedtime. "Her name was Rachel, um- "  
  
She couldn't remember her mothers' name!  
  
"Stonecutter." River supplied. "Our granda was a mason in a quarry someplace."  
  
"Rachel Stonecutter.why is that so familiar? Oh, well, wait a sec.Rachel Stonecutter!" Numair vaguely exclaimed.  
  
"You mean- The Rachel Stonecutter? Why- she's Shang!" Daine gasped.  
  
"The Falcon." Numair replied.  
  
Willow, Wind, and River were completely left in the dark. What was "Shang"? Mother was a bird? HUH?? Why did Daine say "The Rachel Stonecutter"? Mother was just a traveler from Olau. wasn't she?  
  
"Is there a jest here that we don't understand, or are we missing something?" Wind asked. Their puzzled faces made the Wildmage laugh.  
  
"Sweets- your mother and her death have gone down in history. She was the Shang Falcon. The Shang are the most elite warriors in the world. I had heard she was in Carthak for six years before her final battle in Tyra. No one knows why she went there. No one ever mentioned she had children either. Strange-"  
  
"Excuse me Daine, but what's strange?" River asked.  
  
"Well the longest any Shang stays anywhere is only about a year or two. They move about a lot." Numair explained. "She stayed in Carthak with you for six."  
  
"She always spoke of Tortall and going to meet the King in Corus someday. We just thought it was one of mothers fairy tales." Wind mentioned.  
  
As soon as he said "tales" loud shouts and muffled screams emerged from a few alleys back. They weren't quite to the Temple District yet, so those guards couldn't get there.  
  
Daine, as quiet as a mouse, jogged over to the source of the disruption and peered around the corner.  
  
"Again?!" she screamed. The rest of them stampeded over to find three more Midnight Undergrounders standing over an elderly lady, clad in crumpled skits, lying on the ground. She looked frightened.  
  
"How many times are we gonna have to deal with you sons- of- bitches in one day?" Daine demanded of them. She called for assistance from a nearby group of bats and an owl or two (under a truce naturally) to harass the three jerks cornering a helpless old woman.  
  
The last they saw of the thieves, they had owl talons snatching at their masks and were covered in bat scratches (and guano.)  
  
"Good work Daine but I do wish I'd gotten a chance to question them first." Numair told her. She shrugged it off.  
  
"No one pushes around old ladies where I come from! They make me sick!" Daine yelled exasperated. The old woman tried to get up. "Oh- here Grandmother, let me help."  
  
"Thank you Daine." She rasped.  
  
"Eleni! Wha.what happened?" River ran over and helped Daine get the woman named Eleni to her feet.  
  
"Oh thank you dearies. Damn muggers crept up from the roof and jumped on me. I had no time to react. Even with all George has taught me, my strength isn't what it used to be" She turned to look at Numair. "They asked me to become an Owl - what they 'cleverly' call themselves. They want support for something about underground something, but I was so startled..Well Numair, Daine, you didn't introduce me to your friends." She gazed at Wind, Willow, and River.  
  
"Oh yes- Wind, Willow, and River, this is Eleni Cooper. Married to Sir Myles of Olau and mother in law to Alanna the Lioness. Eleni, they are triplets from Carthak." Daine hastily introduced them. "Eleni, are you hurt? We're close to the Castle. Do you want to come with us there, or can we walk you home?" She questioned the older woman.  
  
"Can you help me to the Castle dears?" she asked. They nodded vigorously.  
  
They let the lady lean on them (Wind and River) and together they helped Eleni through the Temple district and up the slope to the Castle.  
  
So? How about now- still ok? Please read and review. Any and all suggestions appreciated. Thanx... 


	3. Not Half Bad

Hey- me again. Sorry this has taken so long! I really wanted to post sooner, but didn't think that you would enjoy a three paragraph long chapter. Here I go, but before I really do, I would LOVE to thank Princess Hemione- here is another chapter, Luthe- there were reasons she was beheaded and the triplets did nothing, but those wont emerge till a little bit later. Thanks for the encouragement! Panda Bear- I will see you in school tomorrow so I can really thank you there, but its nice to know that total strangers and my friends both enjoy what I write. Thanx you guys.... Thanx!  
  
And away we go!  
  
Chapter Three:  
  
Not that Bad  
  
Duke Baird handled Eleni's ankle with a gentle touch.  
  
"A sprain, right?" the old woman asked.  
  
"No it's broken. They really got you, those owls, didn't they?" the healer- Duke corrected. He padded her calf. "But you're a tough old bird."  
  
She chuckled. "I'll pass. You can fix it, can't you?" He replied with a soft smile.  
  
"In no time." He placed his hands over her left foot (the injured one- duh!) and his magic flowed into the wound to fix the bone. "Now, isn't that better?" She nodded, far more relaxed. "You should be fine so long as you don't try to do cartwheels and back flips. Oh and you'll be a bit sensitive to extreme heat or cold on that foot, so be careful. It also may be a bit tender to the touch, or to walk on, at first." He went on, and on, and on....  
  
"Your Grace, you've just ruined my weekend."  
  
"How so?"  
  
"Well, I was planning on walking across burning hot cols all the way to the Roof of the World, and then joining a band of traveling acrobats." She sighed. "I'll have to spend the time with my husband now."  
  
They both laughed.  
  
"How is Sir Myles fairing, by the way?"  
  
She paused to think about it. "The same as always. He's been working on his paper about the Ruins of the Old Ones at Olau a bit much. I believe he's almost done. Of course, he's been almost done with it for about fifteen years." "Well, that's good. Nealan says that he's been missing his knight mistress since he's been out on his own. And with Kel gone, he thinks he's unloved with no one to make him heal an entire villages epidemic, or yell at him to eat his vegetables first, cake second, or just to drag him out of his room to go to the practice courts."  
  
"Well Alanna misses having him to order around. She's been sulking about the Swoop as of late."  
  
"Where did time go? I remember Alanna running in and out of here as Page Alan, always fighting about something. And Neal, in diapers, crawling about Queenscove with my Lady. Now he's a growl healer and Knight, with Yukimi."  
  
"At least you're not a grandmother. I don't know how Thom became a Page so fast. The twins are starting to ride horses now, all grown up, and off ponies." She sighed. "Goddess, we're old aren't we?"  
  
Duke Baird helped her to stand. "I just prefer to be called youth impaired." They walked into the waiting room laughing.  
  
Six pairs of eager eyes impatiently greeted them. Numair's were worried and thoughtful, as were Daine's.  
  
The three violet pairs were unreadable, as if just lavender glass.  
  
"Are you ok? Daine inquired. Eleni nodded. "Of course, why did I even ask?" She grinned at the Duke. "Your Grace, you are a miracle worker."  
  
"I know." He didn't even attempt modesty, but playfully rubbed his fingernails against coat. Wind and Willow snickered at the jest.  
  
"Well, who are these young mischief makers?" Wind beamed. He was a prank- puller if there ever was one.  
  
"Duke Baird, this is Willow," She bowed slightly. "River," He smiled and bowed as well. "And Wind."  
  
Now, with no regard to manners, Wind just grabbed the dukes' hand and shook vigorously.  
  
Willow and River put their faces in their hands and shook their heads. They were embarrassed for him. "Well hello Wind!" the Duke smiled. He liked a person who wasn't intimidated by his rank and who wasn't afraid to be friendly, yet assertive. "River is it?" the smaller brother nodded. " Are you enjoying yourself in Corus?"  
  
"Yes, Your Grace, very much, thank you." was the polite reply.  
  
"Well Miss Willow, how do you feel about living in our fair city? Where are you and your brothers from?" "Well, we- wait a sec. How do you know were related and how did you know that we weren't from Corus?" she demanded.  
  
The duke gave a sly smile. "When you get to be old, you become more perceptive. You carry well-traveled luggage, little miss, and not many friends walk about that look as similar as you three do. Why, the same eyes, hair, bone shape.. For all that your different in gender and size, you could be identical!"  
  
Willow blushed. That was the second time that day that they had been lectured on silliness. Of course they all look alike! And many people notice luggage. She must wake up, smell the manure, and stop being so damn daft! "Carthak, Your Grace. We hail from Carthak."  
  
"Lovely place. Beautiful scenery, exotic animals, regal history- well, so they say."  
  
"You've never been?" River inquired, perplexed.  
  
"I'm afraid my duties and obligations never permitted me to go. I would like to visit, though, and send greetings to Kaddar." The triplets nodded, deep in thought. "Did you know about the new law he issued?" They smiled uneasily.  
  
"Yes, Your Grace." River hesitantly answered. He shot a look at Numair, trying to tell him that he was desperate.  
  
They agreed that the slave thing, and that their moms identity, would stay between them.  
  
Numair understood the silent plea and changed the subject.  
  
"Ladies and Gentlemen, it is getting late, I still need to talk to Raoul about our 'Underground Owls', and we have a full day tomorrow." He turned to Eleni. "Can you get to your rooms alone, or do you require assistance?"  
  
"I can make it, thank you. I can tell Myles about this as well"  
  
"Good. The Spymaster must know, thank you." Daine said, appreciative. "I think we'll tell Raoul and, hopefully, get a bit of sleep."  
  
"Good luck." Duke Baird commented.  
  
"Yea, Raoul will want to hear EVERYTHING seven or eight times, then we'll have to tell Sir Gary, then the king. By then we'll only have a couple hours to rest."  
  
"Daine, you only have a couple hours as it is."  
  
She shook her head in frustration. "Damn it! I should have known. Well, good night Your Grace, and Eleni. I do hope you will join us next week at the Rider's Ball." "Are you joking? Myles has talked of little else. I must say I have been anticipating it myself."  
  
"Spectacular!" Daine exclaimed.  
  
Since this all seemed to be of noble Business, and little else, the triplets went off into their own little worlds.  
  
They were, however, called back into the real one when Daine asked them a question.  
  
"Guys? Hello?" she persisted, waving her ands in front of their entranced faces.  
  
"Huh?" they responded articulately, as one.  
  
"Don't you want to go to a room for the night? Or would you prefer to sleep on the waiting room floor?" Numair teased. "The choice is entirely yours of course."  
  
"A room would be lovely." River sighed, astoundingly relieved.  
  
Daine heard the gratitude in his voice and smiled. "Lets find you one then."  
  
  
  
Daine and Numair led them down a long corridor, made several turns, went up a flight of stairs (Willow noted the portraits of the royal families of the past and present.), down another corridor, two or three more turns, and finally, at long last, down three flights of stairs. Willow wasn't the only one who wasn't completely lost, although she was a bit confused. Poor River and Wind were beyond hope. It was rather sad.....  
  
"Stay here ok?" Numair told them, then walked off with Daine down another hall.  
  
"Do either of you know where we are?" Wind asked, nervously glancing from door to door, as if expecting a spidren to jump out and eat him.  
  
"We're in the floor below ground.... I think. Why- oh, is little Wind scared?" River opened up around his siblings, and mocked Wind.  
  
"NO. I am NOT. I just prefer to know where I am, that's all."  
  
"No you don't. You don't give a rats behind about where you are. You are scared. Just admit it already you big baby." Willow said.  
  
"No- and stop calling me that!"  
  
"Baby, oh little baby Wind. He's SOOOOOOO scared.... hey- what ARE you afraid of, in all seriousness, now." River taunted, then asked, wholeheartedly wanting to know. "I am not scared, all right!" An extremely loud crash and them growling, barking and hissing erupted from down a hallway, then a dog chasing a cat flew down the hall in their direction before turning into yet another breezeway. You could hear their racket slowly disappearing in the distance. Willow and River looked around for their brother, and then saw him, half hidden behind a door. Willow laughed. "Hey guys, uh, are they gone yet? Damn..... (Inaudible words)  
  
"What was that?" River asked, broad smile across his face. "Did I hear you say 'OWLS'?"  
  
"Oh Mithros- those murderers really scared you, didn't they?" Willow exclaimed, exasperated. "You've seen people killed before- remember."  
  
"Yea- a public, planned execution. A killer getting his Just Desserts. Not some vicious, random, senseless beheading of an innocent waitress!" he passionately hissed.  
  
River and willow paused to mull that over for, oh, about half a millisecond.  
  
"Good point, Good point. But you, Mister 'I don't need to touch my bow to shoot. I use my MIND.', don't need to worry about thugs like that." River did an imitation of Wind saying something a long time ago, when they first discovered their powers. "And I can always tell if you're in trouble, no matter where you are, by the LOUD screaming in your head. Willow is always keeping an eye out for you also, even from behind brick walls."  
  
"Yea, yea, I know. But I am still a bit jumpy ok? And I DON"T sound like that Ri- ver." Wind replied, stressing the syllables in his brother's name.  
  
"Well, if you guys are done being STU-PID, Daine and Numair are coming back, with someone else." Willow informed them.  
  
"And how would you know that, shrub?" Wind asked using the nickname he gave her long ago, in his momentary stupidity. (The momentary part is optional)  
  
"Think about that Wind. And be careful. We don't want you to strain anything." Willow retorted. Just then Daine and Numair turned the corner with another man, probably in his late twenties, well, more like thirties, and found a grouchy looking Willow, a River, dead on his feet, and (sigh) Wind, thickheaded as always, scratching his head.  
  
"I've only known you for a few hours but I know enough not to ask." Numair commented, after observing the state they were in.  
  
Daine, smile plastered on, said, " Guys, this is Timon the, well, I guess you'd call him the Head Steward."  
  
"Good day to you sir." Willow and River chorused, Wind oblivious to it all.  
  
"None of tha' sir business, now. Save it for 'is Majesty an' the like. No, I'm plain Timon. And ye are-?" He looked at Willow and grinned.  
  
"Willow. These are my-" she sighed deeply and rolled her eyes. "-brothers."  
  
Wind playfully cuffed her shoulder.  
  
"Forgive me. Wind and River." She corrected.  
  
"Gla' to meet ye. Now we 'ave one room available, in this wing, but 'tis far from prettious."  
  
"That's fine. We don't need any frippery. As long as there is a bed, fireplace, and bathtub, we'll be happy as larks." Wind said sensibly, finally giving up on figuring out the obvious.  
  
"Well then, yer gonna get on wiv any of th' castle staff fine!" Timon praised the tired triplets. "Now, if ye gather yer bags, I'll show you the way 'round."  
  
"Very good. Now, I'm afraid Daine and I must leave you with Timon. We still have to get some of the Own out on patrols and Raoul....and Gary....and My Lord Provost will pitch a fit that they didn't hear sooner." Numair let out a deep breath. "Court politics... I should have stuck to juggling.... Why I wish that everything would stay.." He trailed off and Daine rolled her eyes.  
  
"See you tomorrow- if you can get any sleep as it is. The sun is gonna rise in about 2 and ½ hours anyway." She tiredly smiled and gave each a small clap on the shoulder as she drug a grumbling Numair away into the virtual labyrinth of corridors. "We'll come get you an hour after sunrise ok?" she called over her shoulder.  
  
"Mmmkay." The triplets said in unison, all about to fall asleep right there, standing on their aching feet.  
  
Timon quietly chuckled and grabbed their little trunk, all three of their bags, and both quivers. The only reason he didn't grab the bow, too, is that Wind and Willow still held them. But besides those bows, he held everything- not that it was a lot, or heavy- but you know, it's the fact of the matter.  
  
River and willow mutually wanted to protest (wind was happy to have a break) but were too tired to argue.  
  
Timon expertly guided them through the hallways, pointing out various spots of interest. They didn't really listen or try to remember, but tried to look attentive, because, lets face it; he WAS carrying all their stuff and giving them a room at such a late hour!  
  
"This walkway leads to the servants passage to the Rider Barracks, and this set of stairs goes to the Lesser Library." He mentioned these things as they passed them. "'Ere, up this way, will lead to a tower tha' once belonged to a king, but now it's mainly used fer storage.... And 'ere," hey unlocked the door with an impressive set of keys on a ring. ('There must be enough to open every door in the palace!' Willow thought. 'Twice!') and then he pushed the door open. ", are yer rooms. Sorry 'bout the dust an' all, but most of th' staff 'as left for th' night, or is asleep. I'll 'ave Emaline come draw ye a bath. She should be up now anyway."  
  
"Oh, uh, thank you Timon. Very much so. These look lovely." He nodded, put the things on the bed, walked over to the fireplace and in no time at all had a roaring blaze. He left with a cheery expression glued on his face.  
  
With a heavy sigh, River walked over to the bed and grabbed his saddlebag. Then he walked over and sat it on a table.  
  
He started to remove his knives from their various hiding places on his wrist, ankles, waist and such. Once all nine were removed, he got out his cleaning kit Mother gave him and set to work. They rarely needed attention, but he felt a good polish couldn't hurt, plus it was just busy work.  
  
Willow began to put their extra clothes and other belongings in the overly large wardrobe they were given.  
  
Wind put himself to use by finding candlesticks and setting them in strategic positions around the bed- and bathrooms. Then, he mentally grabbed a bit of the blue fame from the fire that was ferociously guzzling up wood in the fireplace. That bit of sapphire heat fled the pit and zoomed to the candlestick he held in his hand. The wick lit and gave birth to a bright orange blaze.  
  
He continued to light all the other candles, manually, not magically, from that lit one.  
  
The room gradually brightened up considerably.  
  
"Ah, better. Much better."  
  
Willow, who didn't need any light, shrugged. But since putting away their meager belongings took all of two seconds, she got out her and Winds bow maintenance kit. She found he bow where she dropped it and set to work. Wind joined her. They polished the wood, cleaning away all the dust from the roads, and took off the strings to oil them. They also attended their quivers, rubbing the leather with a cleaner, then a polish. They were both experienced fletchers and they repaired their broken arrows as well.  
  
River sat, getting his daggers mirror bright, and polishing the leather sheaths as well. Each dagger hilt had a small, black stone that, to River, looked like it held fire. Anyway, he got those to gleam.  
  
They were all nearly done when a knock at the door demanded their attention. The door opened up to admit a young girl, wearing a simple gray skirt and whit blouse, carrying an armful of sheets.  
  
"Hello. You must be Emaline. I'm Willow and that is River and Wind." Wind didn't look up, but mumbled a quick greeting and River was busy polishing one of his fire-stones, which apparently required all of his attention. Willow scowled at their behavior. "Brothers." She said exasperated, while shaking her head.  
  
Emaline gave a soft smile. "Well, if you don't mind, I will change the sheets, then draw you a good bath, well- three. I guess. I can also do a bit of dusting for you." When she spoke, River looked up, all work forgotten.  
  
He was taken aback. Her voice sounded of sweet honey and her eyes were that same color. Her hair, long, straight, and reaching lengths past her waist, was like golden silk. Her small, round face presented rosy cheeks and skin like peaches and cream, which in the candlelight, glowed. When she smiled at him, his breath caught in his throat. He scanned her petite figure, taking in all of whatever it is guys take in.  
  
Willow snickered when she noticed her brother's reaction to the pretty Emaline. She walked to him and slapped him on the spine, really hard, to, you know, start up that mindless yet vital pattern of inhaling and exhaling.  
  
He choked and Wind snickered too. He was the one that normally fell head over heals at the drop of a hat, but this was River's first reaction like this in, well.....a while anyway.  
  
Emaline commenced stripping the bed of the old sheets and replacing them with the fresh ones.  
  
Wind kept out of her way and made a few more arrows, or tried to. He was tired so they were a bit shoddy. River sat in a corner and gaped at Emaline, while working hard at not letting her catch him staring. Willow was helping her (being useful) but then decided to let her finish dressing the large bad and begun dusting with a rag that was ever so damp.  
  
"You know, I do have a feather duster, if you prefer." Emaline offered Willow, though she declined.  
  
"Thanks, but this wipes dust away AND keeps it out of my face. I'm allergic, you see." Emaline nodded. It seemed sensible enough. She even thought that she might try it herself. Dust often got in her eyes and turned them red and itchy.  
  
"Clever Miss Willow. Clever."  
  
"Thank you Emaline."  
  
"Oh- do call me Ema. Only Timon and my father call me Emaline." She crossed the room and went to start filling up the bathtub.  
  
Willow gathered her nightdress, which basically was a large shirt, and a fresh loincloth and breast band and told her siblings, "I am gonna bathe first, then you two can fight over who gets to go next. Sleep all you can while I'm in the bath, ok? River?"  
  
"Uh-huh."  
  
Wind, Wind...WIND!?"  
  
He WAS doing exactly what she said. He was dead asleep, sitting in a chair with a half- finished arrow lying on his lap.  
  
"Oh I give up on that brother. River, you are my new favorite sibling."  
  
"As if I wasn't already."  
  
They both chuckled. All three of them played those games that siblings do. You know- who was mom's favorite, who each one loved the most, who was the best at running, or climbing trees, or.....who's power was strongest... Well their contests weren't always normal, but every family is odd in it's own way. Right?  
  
ANYWAY, Ema then spoke and they were startled back to reality.  
  
"Bath's ready Willow." When they jumped, she inwardly smiled. "Do you need anything else?"  
  
"Yes- uh, since I won't get any sleep with wind here sounding like a waterfall of swords on to rocks," she motioned to her snoring brother. "Could you bring us some tea? Some STRONG tea, please?"  
  
"Of course, Milady."  
  
"Oh- Ema! I'm no lady! Willow, plain and simple." Ema smiled and nodded in recognition.  
  
"I'll be back quickly then, Willow, with some STRONG keep-awake tea." She walked to the door and was gone.  
  
"You can stop drooling now. She's not a piece of venison you know." Willow tartly pointed out.  
  
River gave his sister a sour look. "I wasn't drooling. She didn't even catch my attention, not with her beautiful eyes, or long flowy hair,....or her remarkable smile..." He found that he was drooling. "Shut- up! Besides, you're doing that thing again."  
  
She leaned her head around the corner of the bathroom door. "What thing?"  
  
"Being RIGHT." He muttered, even more sour than before.  
  
She smugly smiled, content as could be, and returned to the bathroom sink. "When are you two gonna lean that that is my greatest attribute? My uncanny habit of being correct- ALL THE TIME."  
  
She stripped down to her loincloth and breast band and played with her hair in front of the mirror- like any normal 15- year- old girl.  
  
'I wish River would say something to Ema. Just any conversation would do. But he is just so Gods- cursed shy. If he would open up Ema would like him back.' Willow thought to herself, and then sighed. 'Well, I was thinking of taking up a hobby- this can be it. Oh- a chance to meddle in River's love life!' she stepped behind the dressing screen, smiling, and excitedly thinking of ways to draw River out of his non-social shell.  
  
Soon after Willow got in the bath and was soaking, enjoying the heat and wondrous smells, Ema returned with her tea. "Willow got in the bath, I take it?" She asked River, who by the way, refused to look her in the eye.  
  
"Yes." He mumbled.  
  
Ema happily thought to herself, 'Good- a challenge. He is very cute, I give him that. Maybe if I can just coax out the River inside..... well. Challenge ACCEPTED!' She grinned and set down her tea tray, looking for any good material or topic to "bring up."  
  
"Would you like a cup?" She asked him.  
  
"Uh- sure, thanks" he downright refused to look her in the face!  
  
She poured him a cup and carefully, without spilling a drop, gave him the steaming tea. "Careful there- it's hot."  
  
He looked up at the cup and carefully took it from her dainty hand. "Thanks."  
  
'This is going nowhere!' she thought.  
  
For a few minutes, while she collected her thoughts, neither spoke. River toyed with his daggers and Ema tidied the little room, struggling when she tried to clean the shelf above Wind; he tossed and turned in his chair, flailing his arms without regard to those nearby.  
  
Ema noticed the weapons River handled and was surprised. She didn't know many commoners who owned, let alone knew how to use properly, such daggers, or ones so well made.  
  
They displayed a black opal in the hilt and were made from the finest metals, with black leather sheaths and grips. He must have inherited them, because the quality of everything else they had was, well, bad working class, and they sure didn't pack like nobles. Only nobles, though, RICH nobles, could afford that many knives from the Raven Armory.  
  
  
  
"Did you inherit those from a rich uncle or something?" Ema broke the silence with her question about his daggers' origin.  
  
He was puzzled. What would make her ask THAT? "No, my mother bought them off a peddler when I was 5."  
  
She balked. You don't buy Raven Armory weapons from a peddler! Then the thought occurred to her that he might not know the value of his possessions. He might not know of the small fortune he had in daggers.  
  
"Are you sure?" She asked, crossing to his chair and tentatively picked up one. "Do you see this mark here?" she pointed the armory's trademark.  
  
"The trademark. So what?" River didn't see what she was getting at. So he didn't have the greatest stuff? So he got used bags and amateur made weapons? Did she have to rub in?  
  
"I don't believe you understand. These marks signify that you can't gat better made weapons. Well- unless made by the GODS, you can't get better made weapons." She let this sink in for a moment. His thoughtful purple eyes glancing from her serious face, to his almost priceless daggers, and back again.  
  
"This is well worked, young cow hide, and this stone- wait." She had a thought, "What do you know about this stone?" She wanted to know what he knew about his possessions.  
  
"I always considered them....no, you'll just laugh."  
  
She gave him a wholehearted stare. "Try me."  
  
He sighed deeply, hesitated but then gave in to her exquisite eyes and their mile- long lashes. "I always thought they were a black stone, or crystal maybe, that..that held, uh, FIRE." He blushed. His infantile way of explaining things made him feel very small and embarrassed sometimes.  
  
"That's..um," Ema searched for the right words.  
  
"Juvenile, stupid, idiotic?" River offered, overwhelming with self- loathing.  
  
"Sweet." She gave him one of her kindest smiles.  
  
Only when Willow dropped something in the bathroom and let out an impressive string of curses that would make even the toughest sea dogs blush, did they break away from each other's eyes.  
  
"Anyway, these stones are power-holding stones- Black Opals. Very rare. No these daggers right here are worth, well more than you or me."  
  
"How much? Well, how much do you price them at?" River asked, an odd mix of disbelief and awe filling his voice.  
  
"Oh- 40 gold nobles, probably"  
  
Now THAT was impressive enough.  
  
"Each."  
  
No way in hell.  
  
But then again,.... Their mother WAS supposedly one of the greatest warriors of all time. Surely a great warrior like her could afford such fine instruments of destruction. (A/N: I have always wanted to use that phrase- instruments of destruction... hee hee hee! Well on with the show!)  
  
  
  
"Not to mention your maintenance packs and, or quivers, or bows."  
  
He was still concentrating on HIS weapons. Who cares about Wind's or Willow's?  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"The bows and such. Not many know this, but the Armory also fashions a few bows. Finest made in the Realm, they say. Willow and Wind have two of their longbows. Also their quivers. And their maintenance kits. These are all very pricey too." She handled on of the kits' well made metal box with care. "If I were you, I wouldn't let these pretties out of my sight." She put it down and examined the damaged leather chest. Willow never out it away. "You know, by the quality of your baggage, you'd think you were penniless drifters. But then you see you weapons and...." She didn't finish but had the most perplexed look on her face.  
  
"What?"  
  
"And it's almost like you're Royalty. I mean, the most I've ever seen one person own of the Raven Armory is, what?, three pieces? Even those she didn't buy, but were gifts from the most powerful sorcerer knight in the REALM!" she said this, then looked a bit relieved to get the weight off her shoulders, but still, she felt an annoying itch in the back of her mind, one that refused to go away, like a horsefly bite that was just out of her reach.  
  
"Well, perchance she DID inherit them. But they were so new when I got them! Plus, mother did say she bought them from a peddler. She even told us a funny story about her haggling with him. BUT there were a LOT of things she lied about. A LOT of things she neglected to mention." By the bitterness in his voice, Ema concluded that this was a raw subject, one that was best left alone for the time being.  
  
"Well- whatever. I was just curious." She surprised him how she just dropped the conversation like that, then jumped up on the desk and swung her legs back and forth, digesting it.  
  
  
  
Willow felt clean and refreshed, even if she did drop a bottle of lotion on her foot. She walked into the room, noticing the tea more then anything else. Its aroma was rather enticing and she hoped it still hot.  
  
It was.  
  
River seemed a bit more relaxed and alert too. Perhaps he and Ema found a good topic to discuss. She had heard mumbled voice before, but Wind also talks in his sleep on occasion.  
  
"Hey sis?" River asked.  
  
"Yeah?" she sipped the ginger flavored tea.  
  
"Do you remember the story mother used to tell us about the way she bargained with the peddler for my daggers?"  
  
"Yea. So?" What WAS he getting at?  
  
"Not true." She nearly choked on the tea.  
  
"Come again?" Why would mother lie about something like that? Of course she lied a bunch, so it seems.  
  
"Apparently mother had a few other secrets. All of our weapons are from the Raven Armory, and our managing kits, so we have been carrying more money than Lady Sheera on our backs!"  
  
He wasn't joking.  
  
'This isn't possible!' Willow thought to herself then managed to blurt out "How much is it all worth?"  
  
Ema answered this. "I'd say- rough estimate mind- about 500 gold nobles." (With a straight face too!)  
  
Willow fainted and Wind woke up, both near-impossible tasks to manage.  
  
  
  
A cold compress lie on her forehead.  
  
Someone had her left hand clenched in theirs.  
  
Soft murmurs sounded in her ears.  
  
She opened her eyes and her field of vision was filled with River.  
  
"Good." He sighed.  
  
"What happened?" Wind asked, voice sounding out from the bathroom.  
  
"She's awake." Ema and wind stuck their head around the corner to see for themselves. When the truth was confirmed- she WAS awake- they bounded out of the bathroom.  
  
Ema got her another cup of tea that, miraculously, was STILL hot and helped her to sit up so she could drink it. That's also when willow realized that she had been moved to the bed.  
  
She looked out the window to see false dawn. The sun would be up in about ¾ of an hour and River and Wind still need to bathe.  
  
"Thanks, but I just felt a bit lightheaded. I believe we can finish the previous discussion later?" She pleaded with River with her eyes, and her thoughts.  
  
He nodded.  
  
"Good. Now River and Wind have yet to bathe, so I suggest that they do so promptly." She gave them one of her "looks" that every woman inherits from their mother. Wind pretty much soared into the bathroom, just to escape it. Ema followed, smiling to herself.  
  
'I could get on with these three divinely. I'll tell uncle Timon that I will take the job.' She thought, and then started drawing a bath for Wind, thanking the Gods that she got there before he stripped.  
  
  
  
The night proceeded as thus: After River bathed, Ema brought some breakfast down, which all four enjoyed. Then there was a knock on the door, and even though weak and weary, they were going to begin their new lives after a day that, all in all, wasn't half bad.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
So~ whadda think? This took me FOREVER to type, and then my computer froze, and I thought I would lose everything (I didn't save yet- grins sheepishly) but I only had to retype a little. God bless the back up recovery- whew! Anyway- please REVIEW or I will be force to hunt you down and demand that you give your opinion, even if it's not that great.......thanx! 


	4. Tasks

Bonjour! I grandly return with an addition. I can't sleep so I am now typing this and am distracted because something in the sink smells like mildew...  
  
Well, I wish to thank my 1 and only reviewer of the last chap, who was anonymous. Thank you mystery person. Now, on with the show!!!  
  
Disclaimer: I always forget to add this, but basically, if you recognize it, it ain't mine. TP owns it. Thanx..  
  
Chapter Four: Tasks  
  
"Hello?" Daine pounded on the heavy door. "Guys?"  
  
Wind opened it, though not without a bit of strain. "We're ready, but Willow is making us wait a minute."  
  
Willow heard the nobles at the door and then heard Wind open it, probably pulling something at the same time. She hastily put threw on breeches and a shirt, and then stumbled out of the bathroom, yanking on her boots. "You know, I don't even know why I even put on that stupid nightdress." She was hopping on one foot, struggling with her right boot. She got it on, stood up straight and looked around to find everyone staring at her.  
  
Numair and Daine were hiding giggles behind their hands. River and Wind were laughing outright. Even Ema was fighting smiles. Willow was astonished. Did she grow another nose or something? She looked down, turned very pale, and made a break for the bathroom.  
  
She looked in the mirror and saw the mess she was in.  
  
To start, her shirt was inside out. Then her breeches were backwards. She blew her nose earlier and trail was left going across her cheek. The powder she used to clean her teeth was sprinkled on her chin and dusted her other cheek up to her ear. Her curls, in their disarray, stuck out in all directions and one was even stuck to the slimy trail on her face.  
  
'No wonder they were laughing!' she thought to herself. 'I look like I got dressed in the dark!'  
  
She cleaned her face, brushed her hair, and righted her clothes.  
  
Then she nervously stepped into the room.  
  
River spotted her first and smiled. Wind was still rolling on the floor. Ema pretended not to notice and was cleaning the breakfast and tea leftovers, nudging Wind in the ribs with her foot.  
  
Willow downright refused to look at the nobles.  
  
"Now that everyone is, um, ready," Daine said and Willow could hear the grinning in her voice, "lets go meet Stefan."  
  
They followed the nobles out the door, first a still- chuckling Wind, a horrified Willow, and after grabbing his last dagger and putting it back into place, an amused River. They left Ema in the room to finish her job in peace.  
  
  
  
"So far, we've been shown two libraries, six ballrooms, three dining rooms, the kitchen, nineteen corridors the go to the kitchen, the pages, squires, and knights hallways, and forty five classrooms and studies." Wind counted them off on his fingers.  
  
They walked together a few paces behind Daine and Numair. They had just taken them on a LENGTHY tour of the castle.  
  
"We left the room about, oh, two hours ago. We'll HAVE to find a shorter route to the stables." Willow joked, yawning. They all had puffy eyes- a result of sleep deprivation, but were fairly alert and attentive.  
  
"Hey Wind, tell me something." River spoke to his younger brother. "How come you can remember all THAT, but when I tell you something important, like oh- feed the mules, remember, at Sparrows Peak- it 'skips your mind'?" River smiled, looking at the boy expectantly.  
  
He heaved an exaggerated sigh," Just lucky I guess." Then smiled comically.  
  
"Willow you will always be my favorite sibling."  
  
"What can I say? I'm perfect." She gloated, being silly. Her brothers simultaneously rolled their eyes.  
  
The Smells of horses and hay got stronger as they walked in that direction. Soon other odors became more apparent- horse soap, saddle polish, and the tang of sweat and metal.  
  
Quickly enough, they reached their new jobsite- they largest, grandest stables they had ever seen. Rows upon rows of horses, two walls full of tack and literal barrels of new horseshoes. They saw three tables full with combs and brushes, rags and cleaners, and virtually every kind of horse medicines made.  
  
When Daine walked in, all of the animals walked to the front of their stalls and voiced their hello.  
  
Daine greeted them as a group, and then asked them to behave and told them she visit later. Most seemed contented with that, but a few refused that offer, so she was forced to greet them individually by giving them bits of carrot and sugar lumps from her pockets.  
  
She was just petting the last one, a strawberry mare, when a man in his forties appeared with a bit of a belly, hair as straight as straw, and the same color, in a sleeveless shirt that had a strake of horse slobber on it. His pockets bulged with what looked like a couple of apples and some carrot and sugar treats, and his bare arms were well muscled.  
  
He had a pleasant enough face and his eyes sparkled with a cats' curiosity.  
  
He said, with a bit of a commoner accent," Daine now wha' are ye doin' in 'ere gettin' 'em all excited for? The chestnut I was jus' workin' wiv' near dragged me down the row tryin' to get to ye." He scolded her, but with a grin.  
  
"Dreadfully sorry Stefan, but I brought you a present." she apologized in a singsong voice.  
  
"Oh goody!" he clapped and jumped up and down like a young child.  
  
Numair and Daine stepped apart to reveal three teenagers; all with looks so similar it was uncanny- ravens black hair, pert noses and amethyst stares. They bowed their heads in greeting, but spoke not a word. Stefan eyed his "gift" suspiciously. "I don't understan'. I can barely stan' me own son. Don't need no more- daughters neither."  
  
"Stefan." Daine gave him a "cut-it-out" no-nonsense look. "These are stable hands. You needed more- here they are."  
  
A look of realization (and relief) washed over the old hostlers face. "Oh."  
  
Daine chuckled softly.  
  
"This," Numair said, "is Willow," she waved a tiny wave, "Wind," he did the same, "and River. They are travelers, or were, but if you take then on they can stay here, build a new life." He played on Stefan's sympathy.  
  
A conflict disputed itself in Stefan's mind for a moment while he stared at the road beaten, half-starved, suntanned kids. They looked like hard workers, the two smaller ones, but the big one looked up to mischief. But aren't all teenage boys at one point or another? His own was a joker and so was the other male stable hand, who was almost twenty. Given the right job, perhaps, he may be the best worker. Well........ He sighed, and nodded.  
  
The look in the girl's eyes tore at his heart and was all the thanks needed, but then the smaller boy nodded, in a silent thank you, and the bigger boy grinned from ear to ear. "How are ye wiv' horses, Willow was it?"  
  
"Yes sir. We've all worked with all kinds of creatures, and our whole lives, and know most things about all beasts. We get on with horses just fine. We can take care of tack; know about shoes and different ailments they may have. We ride too, if need be, both saddle and bareback. We can also repair pretty much anything you can find for us around the stable." She said, looking a bit sick. She was incredibly nervous.  
  
Stefan smiled to let her know that he didn't bite. "Well then," Stefan smiled, a trick up his sleeve, "Ye- Wind. Go get me a blue roan wiv' black stockins. She needs her shoes changed. Do tha' fer me too." Wind looked at his sister, bother, new boss, and then scampered off to find the animal. "Ye- River. There is a geldin' in 'ere wiv' ear mites. He 'as a list and also needs to be readied wiv' a sidesaddle fer a lady. Go ready 'im and treat those little buggies." River promptly trotted away, in search.  
  
Willow awaited her instructions, but none came. After a few minutes, she stopped worrying about it and impatiently watched for her brothers.  
  
After another minute, Wind turned the corner leading the roan. She was a pretty thing and seemed a bit smitten with her new hostler. She easily worked for him as he tied her up and set to work on the metal foot ware.  
  
A he left to get a different hammer, River returned walking a fine, gray gelding. He already had the ear mite treatment in his hand, along with swabs. He gently tethered him and eased the itchiness in the horses' ears.  
  
By the time he'd finished that, wind had been back and had removed one of the mare's shoes. He had replaced it and was in the process of finishing up the second shoe when River returned with a sidesaddle and blanket.  
  
They finished one after the other, and Stefan set to examining their work.  
  
'A neat job on Nightingales shoes, and she seems fascinated wiv' him. Bitta is relieved of his persisten' ear mites, for the time bein' and is ready fer Lady Catherine to ride 'im.' He thought to himself. 'Well, lets see if the girl can do as good.'  
  
"Good. Wind, put Nightingale back in 'er stall. River put Bitta over in tha' exercise ring, by a water trough. I'll be back wiv' somin' fer ye girlie."  
  
He walked off, leaving a very anxious Willow. Daine and Numair seemed amused. They had known, on some level, that Stefan would do something like that, and Daine had a feeling what Stefan had in mind for Willow, poor thing. A stallion, yet to be broken, arrived a few days before. He was as wild as anything and wasn't exactly a people-horse. Stefan was gonna trick her into trying to ride him.  
  
Sure enough, when Stefan returned, he lead a giant brown and white paint, with one blue eye, one brown. He had three brown stockings and one white one, and a dark brown mane and tail. He didn't wear a bridal, but was lead by a rope about his neck, which he fought. Even Stefan was a teensy bit weary around him. That should have been Willows first clue.  
  
Willow turned into a ghost. She saw a brown and white tyrant that promised her death.  
  
"This 'ere is the newes' member of our little family. Bridal 'im, saddle 'im, exercise 'im, and try not to kill yerself." Stefan said, then handed her the rope. She grasped it in her tiny, white knuckled hand and stared into the beast's merciless eyes, which were as different as night and day.  
  
At this time, she was merely nervous because this was her task. But when she tethered him, tried to put on his bridal, then had a HEAVY hoof on her foot, the knowledge of her job was sinking in, getting more and more worse with further she understood. The horse whinnied and fought the bit. He constantly tried to shake the leather and metal contraption off his head. After that, Willow had a terrific time keeping him still long enough to drape the blanket on his back.  
  
When she managed to do that, she turned her back for a second to grab a saddle. In that moment, a fiery anger swelled in the stallions eyes and he reared, throwing off the blanket, half shaking off the uncomfortable bridle and spitting out the bit, and breaking the stable door he was bound to. The instant he knew he was free, he bolted for an exit.  
  
Willow whirled around to see her charge galloping for an open door. She flew after, but it was futile . Out of NOWHERE, a figure leaps down from the loft. They closed the door and grabbed the mustang's tether, all in one swift, fluid motion. They dragged all of their weight down on the rope, forcing the stallion down, and got kicked in the shin for his efforts.  
  
"Ah- Gods!" an accented male voice gasped.  
  
Luckily, the stallions reared stance was halted and all four, unshod hooves returned to the ground. He snorted his last defiant remark and shook his head in frustrated acceptance.  
  
Willow reached the monster and his captor.  
  
"Thank you." She genuinely appreciated what he did for her, and then heaved a great sigh. He cocked an eyebrow. He had hair like Stefan's: exactly like straw, and his even had some sticking out of it. He had green eyes that were mocking her, she just knew it. He wore a sleeveless shirt and breeches as well, but was well muscled all around, unlike Stefan.  
  
"Oh- that is me son, Bowen." She heard Stefan call.  
  
"So that explains it....." she breathed, very low.  
  
"Wha' did you say girl?" he asked examining, absorbing her shape in the way guys do. (A/N: hey guys why do you do that? Really, tell me, it's a bit annoying on the girls' part)  
  
Her eyebrows knitted together in irritation. She didn't like his tone- arrogance it sounded like. "I have a name you know. I refuse to answer to 'girl.'" She tartly replied.  
  
"Sorry- Willow, River, Wind, this is Bowen. He is another hostler 'ere as well. You'll be workin' wiv' 'im, so get used to 'is pert remarks." Stefan called. Bowen smiled sarcastically at his father, and then his emerald stare continued to scan her once, twice, then he said, "Never turn ye back on an unbroken stallion." He held out the tether out to her.  
  
She snatched it from his clutches and nodded her thanks, though, rather unwillingly.  
  
She led him back to the others and made Wind hold his rope while she took the rest of the broken bridal off, set it aside for repair along with the stall door and put the blanket and saddle away.  
  
All of this she did without speaking a word to anyone but the horse.  
  
When she was finished, she got the rope from Wind and faced Stefan.  
  
"Ye did good girlie. This boy 'ere is yer job, for now on." Willow was confused. "Break 'im fer me."  
  
He grabbed the rope and led the horse back to his stall.  
  
While he was gone, Daine and Numair said their goodbyes and left the teenagers to their new employer.  
  
Stefan returned and put them to work. Wind was to go give a certain number of horses new shoes. River was to go and refill all the water troughs (easier said than done) and willow was to begin repairing the bridal and stall she broke. They silently set to their errands and when he saw that they got started well and wouldn't slack off, Stefan left.  
  
  
  
River finished his work faster than the others, so he figured he'd groom a couple of the horses getting their shoes changed by hit half-wit brother.  
  
Willow sat nearby, repairing the bridal and mumbling obscenities now and again.  
  
Before long, three figures strolled over through one of the doors.  
  
The siblings looked up to see Bowen and two others.  
  
"River, Willow, an' Wind, this 'ere is Brock," he motioned to a VERY large male youth next to him, "and Kaislyn, but us in the stables call 'er Kit." He gestured to a very pretty girl next to him. She had a Ladies looks and a majestic air, but obviously wasn't a sit-at-home-and-embroider kind of gal. She got her hands dirty.  
  
"Hello." the siblings chorused.  
  
"What are ye, triplets or sommat'?" Bowen scoffed.  
  
They looked at each other. "Yes."  
  
Bowen looked as if he had another smart-ass reply in mind, but decided not to say it.  
  
"Well, uh, who's who?" Brock asked, in a deep voice. They realized he was at least nineteen or so and got a good look at him before answering. He was quite tall, even taller than Wind at about six feet, maybe six, three or six, four. He had short, wiry red hair and childlike freckles not quite befitting a normal person his age, but they suited him somehow. He had green-gray eyes and, like the other hostler men, was built. He wore the same clothes as Bowen, except his had much more slobber and manure on it.  
  
"River."  
  
"Wind."  
  
"Willow."  
  
Each said their name and gave a tiny wave.  
  
"Where ye from?" Bowen harmlessly asked.  
  
"We're from-" River hesitated and glanced at his siblings. Did they want to share their past? If they said "Carthak", what thought would that provoke about them to the others? What would they ask next? "Hey, uh, does it matter? We're here now." He meant it to sound casually but it sounded as I they were snobbish, or even hiding something. (Which they were.)  
  
Bowen sensed their sensitivity on the past and decided to let it be.  
  
"Where ye stayin'?"  
  
"The hell if we know. Takes ten minutes to get to the right wing, then the hallways are a maze." Willow laughed, fiddling with the bent bit.  
  
"Servants wing." Brock chuckled. She was cute, the girl. Not to mention her performance with the mustang. It was a riot! He, Bowen, and Kit were watching from the loft and knew she was gonna screw it up. Stefan even had trouble with the mammoth, so her feeble efforts would be hilarious.  
  
Kit saw them differently. To her, they were just more people to bother her, and she hated people. She knew that after the novelty of the palace would wear off and their true colors would be cruel noble-like orders for her to do their jobs. They were just like all of the others. Either that or they would try to buddy up to her, the males, to get into her loincloth, because that had happened before too. She HATED that, more than anything, and she hated a lot.  
  
"Well, this is fascinating, but I have WORK to do yet." She sourly said and a ladder up to the loft.  
  
"She's not pleasant a first, but when you get to know Kit, she's as gentile as a newborn lamb." Brock said with a smile. From above, an apple was thrown and hit Brock in between the eyes. "Such a sweet disposition, she has!" He yelled, direction the comment upwards. They could then hear loud stamping to the other end of the stable from the loft.  
  
"She hates nobles who try to prove themselves by runnin' away and joinin' the workin' world. Ye all quite within a week anyway." Bowen narrow mindedly explained, figuring he'd let them know right off.  
  
"Nobles?" River asked.  
  
"Yea- ye know. Guys like ye." They looked at each other, then at Brock and Bowen and felt hurt and at a complete loss.  
  
"We're not nobles. Not merchants, not farmers, not shopkeepers, not ANY of that! We came her to star over you know, and not be instantly judged, like we were everywhere else! What is your problem? We can't be accepted? Just ACCEPTED? No awkward questions, no harsh assessments, no malicious tricks or mockery?!" Willow got up on her soapbox again, then grabbed the bridal and tools and stormed outside to work, but not without going right in between Bowen and Brock and bumping into them.  
  
River sat there, feeling for his sister. "She's........ emotional. You get used to it after about, oh, ten years." He explained, trying to break the tension with a joke, albeit a bad one. He hoped the others wouldn't hate her and think she was this impossible, callous girl. They laughed, although it was forced and stopped abruptly. They WERE both thinking in her reaction. Brock felt bad they upset her on her very first day. Bowen was unsure of what he felt. Both wanted to apologize, but Wind started talking to them about guy matters and they became far too preoccupied.  
  
Willow erupted outside, and then sat on an overturned rain barrel. She worked on the bridal, handling it a bit roughly, forcing down her anger. She HATED being judged like that and then treated like an outcast. Of course, now she gave them a real reason to hate her.  
  
At that thought she felt her eyes brim with tears, then spill over. She began to do that teenage- girl thing where they over analyze situations over and over until they sob uncontrollably. (A/N: I hate it when I do that. I actually did it the other day and it made the rest of the day suck..... damn hormones...) Hearing the boys laugh and make loud male comments made her believe they were direction those jokes at her- which they weren't! - but made her feel ten times worse.  
  
All of a sudden, she was in a shadow. She looked up to see Stefan and the stallion.  
  
"Done wiv' tha' bridal?" He asked and pulled out a handkerchief. She gratefully accepted it and nodded. "Good. Yer gonna try to saddle 'im again. After Wind shods them feet an' ye, name 'im of course."  
  
"M-Me? Name him? She stuttered.  
  
"Sure. He's yer charge now."  
  
She was a tad wary, but thought about a name for him anyway. She finally came up with one she liked.  
  
"Falcon's Fall." She declared.  
  
"Pardon?"  
  
"Falcon's Fall." She repeated. She figured he'd hate it and name him himself.  
  
He stood there and considered it for a moment, then said, "Strange, but I like it. Can I ask how ye came by it?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Every name comes wiv' a past, a reason. What's Falcon's Fall for?"  
  
"Just a name I liked." An obvious lie.  
  
"Humph." He said and grabbed his hankie, since she was offering it back. He shoved the rope at her and she stood and accepted it. Both the stallion and the girl would prove and interesting challenge to understand.  
  
She led him back into the shade of the stable and tied him up, away from the group of young men.  
  
"WIND!" she angrily called her larger brother, who still held an old shoe in his hand. "RIVER! Help me shoe Fall!"  
  
"Who's Fall?" Wind called.  
  
"This is Falcon's Fall and he needs shoes, so get over here and help me!"  
  
"OK!" she heard them call, but then thought that the murmuring sounded an awful lot like "wrong time of the month"  
  
"Yea- you want it in detail?" she angrily called.  
  
They nervously shook their heads and hurried over to aid their annoyed sister. They knew, when testy, Willow could be........ graphic and...... really descriptive.  
  
River and Willow held Fall down while Wind cautiously shoed him, careful not to sit behind the horse, within kicking range, which Fall attempted several times.  
  
Wind was working on the last shoe when River asked, in a low, hushed voice, "Willow, why is this horse named after Mother?"  
  
"You figured it out?" she asked, stroking his nose, trying to calm him.  
  
"Well, it took a while, but you know."  
  
"Ever since I found out about her, it's all I can think of. This is my decision- closure."  
  
"By naming a horse Falcon's Fall?"  
  
"Hey, you get closure your way and I will get it mine, thanks." She said dropping the subject with those last words. When she finished talking, Fall tried to kick Wind again and when he was restrained, reared. At the sudden movements of Fall, Willow pulled down on his rope, until all four newly shod hooves were on the ground. She stared into his eyes, which were full of fiery wildness, and held them. Seconds seemed to crawl by, and finally, Fall looked down. He knew when he was beaten, but that wouldn't stop him from misbehaving again, later on.  
  
  
  
Brock and Bowen sat, quietly examining the new stable hands and talking in low voices.  
  
"So, what do you thin Bowen?"  
  
"I think... I think that they jus' wan' to be treated like people. They just wan' to start over, an' not be quickly dismissed, especially the girl."  
  
"Willow?"  
  
"Yea."  
  
"Sure is pretty."  
  
"She'll pass."  
  
"PASS? Look at her- her hair, and eyes- so clear and bright, and her lips, nose, shoulders-"  
  
"Go no lower. I have eyes, ye know. Besides, sounds like someone 'as a crush."  
  
"Sure do." Brock stared at her, while she tried to get on the better side of, what was his name?, Fall's temperaments. She was beautiful...  
  
"But seriously now, how do ye think they'll 'andle the palace, an' stable, life?"  
  
Brock thought about his best friends question. "They'll adapt, I can feel it. Mayhap we'll get a bit of their past outta them... mayhap we'll put together the crows wing hair puzzle."  
  
"So now they're a puzzle?"  
  
"I'm sure confused by them, aren't you?" Brock said, and then went over to them to try and make friends.  
  
'Yes my friend, I sure am.' He thought and resumed his work, up in the loft, trying not to think of the new arrivals.  
  
  
  
Well, uh, that's it for now. I am sorry it takes so long, but I have drill crap, and I wish I could do it faster, but I can't so you must bear with me. Please, read and review. THANX!!!!!!!!!!!! 


	5. A NotSoHarmless Prank

Howdy ya'll! Golly I missed writing.... Uh, never mind. I would love to thank Raquel and Prime Rib Panda Bear (PRPB) thanx you guys for reviewing. You know, since I had to beg these two at school, then annoy, then threaten, to r/r, that doesn't say a lot. Please oh please read and review. I get lonely.......  
  
Disclaimer: Is this absolutely necessary? You and I know both know that no one can surpass the genius of Tamora and the fantasy worlds her magic creates. I am never going to be 1/ 1 millionth as good as she is, even at her worst (I'm implying nothing- she really has no level of bad) but I did create a few characters, which you know of. I will introduce a few others new to you, in later chaps naturally. Later~  
  
Chapter Five: Falcon's Fall  
  
  
  
Sometime, a while after dinner, Ema came by to fetch the triplets. Willow was gently grooming a beastly looking stallion. She cooed to him like a mother to a child and caressed his nose. He snorted at her and tried to bite.  
  
"Miss Willow-" Ema started.  
  
"Ema-"  
  
"Right- Willow. Willow, why are you speaking to him that way?" meaning the horse.  
  
"I'm trying to show him that I am his friend, NOT enemy. He seems to get the two confused." She motioned to a large bite mark on her forearm. That's also when Ema noticed a gash on the other girl's forehead.  
  
"You're bleeding!"  
  
"Huh?" Willow wearily asked, then realized her face was throbbing. "Oh- that. Must have gotten that when I was thrown the second, no, third time."  
  
"Thrown?"  
  
"I get to break in this brute."  
  
Ema nodded understanding, but started looking around for River all the same.  
  
"River is with Stefan somewhere." Willow saw her gaze around and knew what was on her mind. She put two fingers to her hairline and winced. She drew them away and saw that they were cloaked in crimson blood. She sighed and looked at Fall. "You'll be the death of me." He whinnied, as if in mutual agreement.  
  
"I'm not looking for River." Ema replied, indignant.  
  
"Please, I'm not blind." 'Far from it even.' She said, then thought with a sigh.  
  
"Fine. Anyway," Ema said uncomfortable and changing the subject. "Did you make any friends today, besides the four-legged kind?"  
  
"A blue jay flew in and watched me for a while."  
  
"And they can't have feathers." Ema growled, frustrated with my female companion.  
  
"Well, River and Wind get on with everyone pretty well, except Kit. I haven't seen her this morning now that I think about it. She's not very social. Bowen and I don't, um, mix well, but Brock and I get on ok. He showed me what I was doing wrong on the bridal Fall broke."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"This is Falcon's Fall. He broke a bridal this morning and I was trying to fix it but was using the wrong tool. Plus the bit was still bent."  
  
Ema raised her eyebrows, impressed. It's not everyday that you meet a horse that can bend a steel bit in its teeth.  
  
"Where's Wind?"  
  
"Last I saw of THAT brother, he was joking around with Brock. Let's put Fall away for the night, and then hunt them down." She tousled the stallions' mane and led them down rows of stalls until she stopped the group in front of a stall in shabbier appearance. There were hoof dents and the hay in the net bags they put up, it was torn down and the hay strewn all over the floor. His water trough was overturned as well, so before she could put the horse up, Willow begrudgingly cleaned the mess. Stefan had shown her the way to it at lunch (which consisted of a few apples), as well as the closest places to get fresh water, hay, where to get brooms and such, and all other necessities for the stall. She remembered that she'd have to bolt (with lock and key!) in the creature.  
  
Ema stood by, offering assistance every once in a while, only to be politely refused.  
  
Willow put the key on a hook, dusted off her messy hands, and smiled, a bit over-optimistically.  
  
"So who are this Brock and this Bowen?" Ema inquired as they began their search for Willow's brothers. Willow knew she could find them, no problem, and get done in a tenth of the time. But, alas, she had the company of Ema, so she was reduced to physically looking, instead of magically.  
  
"Brock is pretty nice. Like I told you, he helped me with Fall's busted bridle. Gods he sure is hard to talk to though."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I mean," Willow said as she turned around the corner as a spur of the moment, last possible second decision, leaving Ema momentarily turned around, "that he is just so gods blessed TALL. The only person who could look him in the eye would be Master Numair, that or a giant." She sighed and paused for a moment. "He sure is sweet though."  
  
"Sounds as if someone has a crush on the giant man-boy!" Ema teased her as she had been teased.  
  
"No, not really. But you wanna know what really........ irks me?" she passionately asked, forced to find a word that was polite enough for the other girls taste. She gave her no time to respond before she answered her own question. "That arrogant, self congratulatory, know-it-all, head hostler's son! 'Never turn ye back on a unbroken stallion.' The nerve! Like I don't know that? And the way he looks at you, criticizing your every move ..... I'm fifteen you know, and just as capable as River or Wind!" She threw her arms in the air exasperated. She then turned to face her new friend, stopping them both, and kept jabbering about the "pompous, sorry excuse for a human who should have been drowned at birth" for a few more minutes, paused when she heard a nearby "THUD", and then kept going on with the insults and complaints as a smile crept slowly onto Ema's face. She tried to smother the continuous laughter until tears began to appear on her cheeks.  
  
Willow was perplexed, looked at her strangely, then went on to say, "And to top it all off, he believes he is the Gods gift to the world, and then River and Wind think those idiotic jokes and remarks are hilarious.... he's behind me isn't he?"  
  
When Ema doubled over, laughing harder than she ever had before, nodding her head, gasping because her sides ached so much, Willow clenched her eyes shut and then turned ever so slowly.  
  
When she opened her eyes, first one, then the other, she was eye level with a manly Adam's apple. Without moving her head, she looked up into his face with just her eyes, to see him looking down at her in the same fashion. His eyebrow was cocked again, in that smug way of his, and a one sided smile caressed his lips.  
  
He said nothing, but waited for her to speak. When she just stared at him blankly, he decided to break one of the most amusing silences he'd ever encountered.  
  
"Ye do a TERRIBLE impression of me."  
  
"Well I didn't know I had an audience." was the snappy come back.  
  
"Well ye shouldn' of done it in the firs' place, should ye? Insultin' a fellow worker on the firs' day- tsk tsk."  
  
"For you, I believe an exception stands in that rule."  
  
"Oh- ouch. This filly bites." He smirked, clearly enjoying this. Her glanced at something near her hairline. "Ye know yer bleedin', don't ye?"  
  
"Yes, I ran into a fence."  
  
"Now why would ye do tha'?"  
  
"It wasn't exactly voluntary."  
  
"Meanin'-"  
  
"Fall threw me into it." He nodded.  
  
"Beastly tha' one."  
  
She shrugged. "He's not so bad once you get used to flying." This made him chuckle.  
  
There was another awkward silence for a few moments, until Willow remembered what she had said about him, most of which she still believed was true.....most.  
  
"Well aren't ye gonna apologize?"  
  
"What for?" she demanded. "I have a right to an opinion too! You know, I thought this was Tortall- men and women equal, unlike.....other places." She caught herself. 'Close one Willow- watch it!'  
  
"But ye hurt me tender feelins'!" He exclaimed, not really meaning it, just trying to get a rise out of her.  
  
"No I didn't. You have to have a heart to have feelings."  
  
'Ok Willow- TOO FAR!' a little part of her mind mentally scolded when she saw the reaction her words had on him, showing in his eyes.  
  
Instead of apologizing right then and there, like she SHOULD have done, she frantically looked at Ema, grabbing her by the arm and forcefully drug her away to where Wind may be, leaving a rather hurt Bowen standing in the straw.  
  
Once they had gotten a few rows away, Ema pulled willow into an empty stall and whirled her around face to face.  
  
Willow wouldn't look her in the eyes, but stared intently at the floor.  
  
Ema was ready to scold, but saw that Willows conscience had taken care of that.  
  
She took a deep breath to compose herself, then said, "You and I both know that you weren't the.... KINDEST person to him, and no doubt you had reasons, but Willow- really? Heartless?"  
  
"I...I don't know why I said that, or why it came out that way, but I didn't mean it."  
  
"You could of least have apologized."  
  
"NO! I mean I didn't know how to- apologize for that, I mean. You don't get it- that was the first time I really said what I wanted, when I wanted. I took myself by surprise, then the look on his face..."  
  
Ema sighed. "Well I'd steer clear of him for as long as humanly possible."  
  
"Oh- I plan on it." She grabbed her own wrist, and old nervous habit, then yelped when she discovered yet another bruise. "Let's just go find my brothers. I need to get some sleep. Maybe then I can be myself." Ema considered this, nodded, and together they resumed the search for Wind.  
  
Bowen stood dumbfounded. She'd said he didn't have a heart, didn't have feelings. He'd gotten some pretty foul things said to and about him before, but he'd always been able to laugh them off. Why did it matter so much now? Well, he'd never been called heartless before, for one thing.  
  
Soberly, he climbed a nearby loft ladder and smiled the tiniest bit at Kit, who was close by.  
  
Bowen was the only person Kit really talked to, outside of working. Naturally, she was furious at the one person who could make her only friend look like that.  
  
"You're gonna let her talk to you like that, the little-"  
  
"She 'as a right to 'er opinion, Kit."  
  
"That wasn't an opinion- it was an insult!" Kit roared, outraged.  
  
Bowen was just silent.  
  
Kit stormed to another part of the loft- HER part of the loft, to decide what to do about this, this Willow.  
  
"And there was this shapely brunette near Persopolis, and a blonde with ALL the right curves in, oh...., I forget, but there was this other brunette at- "  
  
"Ahem."  
  
Wind was talking with Brock. They sat on two old apple crates and Wind regaled his companion with tales of the pretty lasses he noticed at EVERY stop.  
  
Willow and Ema got a bit tired of hearing about voluptuous ladies, so Willow decided to let their presence know.  
  
Wind turned around at his interruption, then seeing it was only his sister, and Ema, he relaxed.  
  
"Hello, brother dear." Willow said over-sweetly.  
  
"Want do you want?" he demanded. Brock stared at the two girls.  
  
"Oh- sorry. Brock, Ema. Ema, Brock. Look Windbag," Willow used the nick- name she dubbed him, years before. "I'm tired, unbelievably sore-"  
  
"And bleeding!" Wind exclaimed when he saw a drop of blood run down her cheekbone.  
  
"She raised both her eyebrows in mock surprise and said with an insulting grin, "Hey, took you long enough! I'll care for it later. Anyway, as I WAS saying, I would like to take a bath, since I can do that now. Help me find River so we can search for the room."  
  
"He's with Stefan somewhere."  
  
"Wow! How'd you come to THAT glorious conclusion?" Willow exclaimed sarcastically "Now- can we go find Stefan?"  
  
Wind finally picked up on her grouchiness. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he stood up.  
  
During all of this Brock hadn't said a word, just nodded at Ema when he was introduced. Now, he stared at Willow again, memorizing HER curves, they way her curls shook when she spoke. How he longed to mend her wounds, for, if unknown to her, she also had a bad gash on her right thigh, as her breeches glistened with blood there too. How badly he just wanted to make her pain go away, make her happy.... 'Snap out of it Brock! You've known her only a day!' he mentally scolded himself.  
  
Willow saw Brock shaking his head, snapping out of his trance he was in and turned her head to look at him.  
  
Now all he did was stare at the floor because he could feel her gaze upon him.  
  
He kept debating in his conscience and made the decision to say something, so he lifted his head.  
  
They had left.  
  
He rested his chin in his hands and sighed. 'Doofus!' that part of his mind yelled at him.  
  
Stefan released River from work when he noticed a maidservant had come to retrieve them. Plus River no longer concentrated on pitching hay for him after his siblings and the pretty girl walked up.  
  
He sent his three newest workers off to sleep, thinking about all the work done that day. Daine and Numair were right. They did very well, especially that Willow. Look at all the work she managed with Fall today!  
  
And that name- Falcon's Fall. If there isn't a story behind that, then he would in turn his stables and eat Bowen for breakfast.  
  
They had a past that, with perseverance and luck, he could hopefully coax out of them. They were a lot like that mustang, yet to be broken into people like the ones you find in Corus. All he wanted out of the horse was to make friends and build a trust- the same with those kids.  
  
He stopped being thankful and started calling Kit, Brock, and his son to dinner. They'd trounce over to the kitchen and beg something off a cook.  
  
When Willow, River, Wind started leading the way to the room. Ema laughed and asked where they'd learned to go THAT way.  
  
"Daine and Numair took us this way."  
  
"Shows. Come, follow me." She led them though a door and down a hallway. She turned the first left they came to and ended up two doors away from their room.  
  
She explained that Daine and Numair were practical jokers of a sort and loved doing that to stuffy nobles. "They get them lost in the catacombs all night and are too tired the next day and will sign any treaty shoved under their noses. The King finds it quite handy, not to mention a riot."  
  
"Well, why did they do it to us?" Ema shrugged.  
  
"Maybe they just wanted some amusement."  
  
They weren't sure they liked being the butt of a joke like that, but since they hadn't slept in two days, they weren't going to carp over it.  
  
There was a bit of an argument concerning baths between siblings.  
  
Willow insisted they all start bathing every day. River didn't care, but Wind ranted about it being unhealthy.  
  
"Nonsense, everyone at the palace bathes everyday- well, MOST everyone." Ema crinkled up her nose at the memory of a certain smelly kitchen boy who liked to follow her around while she worked when they were younger.  
  
"Plus since we work around horses every day now, I won't share the bed with you if you smell. You'll sleep on the floor while River and I share the FEATHER mattress." She emphasized "feather" to strike Winds interest. Willow and her brothers had never slept on anything softer than a wood floor with about a quarter inch of scattered hay on it. They were all anxious to try out one of the softest things available, even if they had to share.  
  
Begrudgingly, Wind obeyed. They all enjoyed (some more than others) a nice, hot bath and then went to bed, not even caring about the Dinner Ema set out for them.  
  
They groggily awoke, but still sooooo much better than before. They ate their cold leftover rolls from the night before, plus all of the fruit Ema brought them that morning.  
  
They hurried down to the stables to get an early start, nut found everyone but Brock already awake and working.  
  
"Aye- yer here." Stefan said. "Good. Wind, ye go see Bowen an' star' helpin' 'im. 'E's in the loft. River, wake Brock, then finish wha' ye were doin' las' night. Willow, go feed an' water Fall. Clean 'is stall an' tie 'im up in one of the exercise rings. Mend them two bridles since ye did such a fine job yesterday. Then work wiv' the stallion. The bridals are on tha' workbench."  
  
They set off on their different directions to start their days work, River trudging out to the other end of the stables, Wind climbing a nearby loft ladder, and Willow hurrying off to start with Fall.  
  
When she reached the brutes stall, she smelled something bitter, and noticed that he was incredibly restless, more so than normal, but she disregarded it.  
  
She opened his door slightly and heard a creaking noise above her. She looked up towards the noises source and opened the door wider at the same time, just to witness a bucket come crashing down, hitting her forehead wound from yesterday. She screamed.....  
  
Bowen seemed a more depressed than he was yesterday, which was puzzling. Wind didn' know what to do, so he started to tell bad jokes, hoping to stir his interest and make the work less tedious.  
  
He thought a smile on Bowen's face when he finished reciting a silly (and bit naughty) limerick he heard on the road with the caravan, but was interrupted by a crash from downstairs followed by a familiar scream.  
  
"Willow!" Wind exclaimed, swing down from some open rafters, ignoring the ladder directly be his foot. He flew in the direction of her cry, never once noticing Bowen at his heels, until he was passed, that is. They ended up in front of Falls stall and saw Willow frantically locking the stall door back in place. Fall was bucking and kicking to get out.  
  
"Wha' 'happened?" Bowen asked.  
  
"Did he hurt you?" Wind asked seeing the blood gushing down her forehead, into her eyes, and then reached out to examine it.  
  
She batted his touch away, and wiped her face with her hand and brought it away bloody. She scowled in disgust.  
  
"No, he is just excited because I have horse urine all over me. SOMEONE rigged a bucket to fall and shower me in it."  
  
"That wouldn't explain the feistiness in Fall." Wind said thoughtfully. "Besides the fact that he is already feisty."  
  
"I know wha' would." Bowen spoke up. "One of the females aroun' 'ere is in heat. Tha' would explain 'is behavior." Willow sat down on the wooden, hay- strewn floor rather hard.  
  
"Great! And I get to work with him all day, smelling like this!" she brought her hand up to scratch he nose and got a good whiff of herself. She crinkled her nose and wiped her forehead again, wincing.  
  
"At least people will leave you alone, well, except for the stallions." Winds feeble attempt at humor just made and she started to cry. "Oh, come on Willow, I didn't mean that." He got down the ground next to her, trying not to get any of the yellow liquid on him, and tried to put his arm around her, but failed since the smell was so strong.  
  
Fall was still kicking the door, trying to get at the female in heat. The smell was so near, after all.  
  
"I just want to know WHO did it! Did either of you see someone near here?" she eyed them suspiciously, tears rolling down her cheeks, making tracks in the smeared blood on her face.  
  
They frantically shook their heads. She sighed.  
  
'I'll probably never find out though I still suspect Bowen.' She thought, looking straight at him as he exchanged the stare. 'No doubt he's still mad at me from yesterday.'  
  
That actually was the opposite of what he felt, though, not quite what he thought. 'She probably thinks I did it because she thinks I'm mad at her, no doubt.' He thought this with a sigh, never breaking the eye contact.  
  
Before she knew what was happening, Wind had lifted her to her feet (he really doesn't know his own strength sometimes!) and was dragging her away to get cleaned up. They had to break the contact once Wind guided her around a corner, yet she still "saw" him, kneeling on the rank floor, then stand and start to clean up, tossing aside the reeking bucket.  
  
Bowen had sat on the filthy ground, and was staring into her eyes- they were so deep he could get lost in them forever... What was he doing?  
  
He got up and figured, since it would have to be done anyway, and Willow wasn't here to do it, he might as well clean the mess. He picked up the extremely smelly bucket and tossed it aside.  
  
After mopping up the urine and putting new hay down, he cautiously opened Falls door and got him to calm down, earning him multiple bruises and bites for his efforts. He cleaned the stall and watered the frisky paint, wondering HOW willow was going to break this fiend, especially smelling like she did today.  
  
Putting Fall outside in an exercise ring by a water trough and giving him some hay, and a bit of oats as a treat for not stepping on his feet, River silently slipped back inside and resumed his chores.  
  
Alas, since it was solitude he sought, Wind came back. River and Brock also came up after a bit to move some crates of leather thongs for bridal and saddle repair for the Riders with the upcoming ball, the Midsummer holidays, and such.  
  
They also HAD to do it as loudly as possible.  
  
"Where were you?" Brock inquired. Bowen was supposed to be working on things on the loft, before he started mucking out stalls, a coveted (not) job around the stable hands, or so he thought.  
  
"There was an acciden'. Wind an' I ha' to take care of it."  
  
"What kind of accident?" River casually asked.  
  
Bowen hesitated, but since he would find out anyway, being her brother and all, and them living In the PALACE, a proverbial goldmine of gossip, he gave in and told River, "Willow 'ad a prank pulled on 'er. Someone rigged a bucke' to fall on 'er when she opene' the door of the stallions stall. Go' a nasty gash- or reopened the other on her face." He explained this, trying to sum it up as best he could  
  
"Is she ok?" they simultaneously asked, genuinely worried.  
  
"She'll be fine, bu' tha' ain't all of it." He paused. "The bucke' was full of horse urine." They looked puzzled and a bit disgusted. "I' was from one of the females- in hea'." Now they looked horrified.  
  
"Well, a stallion and his hostler, who happens to smell like a mate... interesting day for sis." River joked, being a brother. He knew she was a big girl- she could, and would, take care of herself.  
  
"Shouldn't we tell Stefan? I mean, he can't expect her to with him drenched in......that."  
  
Bowen opened his mouth to say something, but River interrupted. "Uh, I wouldn't do that. See, Willows not one to give up. She'll do it HER way, no questions, no excuses, no exceptions She won't thank, I promise. You'll be lucky if she doesn't hurt you." He lifted a crate and moved it to the pile they were forming, letting them absorb that.  
  
"But surely she'll-" Brock started.  
  
"No. Whatever it is, Willow will scratch out your eyes. She doesn't like being singled out, even it isn't meant in a sexist way. She thinks people treat her differently because she's a girl, and in a lot of places they have."  
  
"Yes but this is Corus- Tortall, tha land of the odd. No one cares about that- not around here."  
  
"Try telling that to some of the villages, near Tyra. One man, well, boy really, about sixteen or so- our age, he did that, and well....you don't wanna know WHAT she did to him."  
  
"What did she do?" Brock pushed, stupidly thinking that she couldn't have done much.  
  
"Sometime, when you're ready for a horror story, I'll tell you. Between me and Wind, we know enough to make the Black God nauseous."  
  
"Come on man. She can't be THAT bad- she's not Kit you know!" Brock said laughing with Bowen, teasing his close by hostler, scowling on her cot.  
  
"Well, how many people do you know, that with a blindfold, after being spun dizzy, at night, pinpoint the exact position of a spidren, and kill it with ONE arrow?" they shook their heads, not exactly following. "She can. It's pretty entertaining too- especially the time she got paid to do it- on a bet. Never turns those down either...."  
  
That shut them up.  
  
  
  
Wind took good care of her, giving her a damp cloth to get some of the smell off her face and skin, though her clothes were hopeless, and still stunk. He bandaged the wound and found a headache remedy for her as well.  
  
She went to work on the bridals first, thinking about how she would get through the day with Fall, smelling like that. Just getting him out of his stall regularly was a chore.  
  
She sighed, strapping the last leather strip into place and hanging up the equipment in its proper spot. She started to go back to get Fall when something moving about in the corner of her vision outside made her turn her head.  
  
It was Falcon's Fall, ready to work.  
  
'But how did... who would.....eh, forget it.' She thought, trying to piece the puzzle together, then giving up.  
  
The day proved interesting indeed for Willow. Occasionally, a passerby would witness a girl running away from a fierce-looking paint, crazed glint in his eyes. She would jump the fence and climb a tree, waiting until he calmed down enough for her to try whatever she was doing again, having to return to the safety of a nearby oak soon enough.  
  
At the end of the day, no progress was made, but Willow accumulated many more bruises, and some sore muscles.  
  
The days began to pass in this fashion, without the pee, naturally. There were no more pranks, but Willow still made limited progress with her charge, for he learned he could jump the fence, and she would be forced to seek assistance to detain him. Willow learned, however, that if she tied his rope tether (or his reigns, depending how lucky she was with the bridal that day) around her wrist and hand, she could keep a hold of him better. Unfortunately, she was light, and he was strong. Once he even cleared the fence, dragging his captor into a post, giving her many more future scars.  
  
Wind and River mainly stuck to the other hostler boys, and Kit on occasion, doing the more manual labor- none of the fancy stuff. Moving boxes, mucking stalls, grooming extra horses, pitching hay, and maybe shoeing a horse if they needed it, or mending broken tack- that kind of thing. They worked with the NORMAL horses (well as normal as the palaces horses got, what with the Wildmage's influence) leaving the insane ones to their sister.  
  
Some days, the regular hostlers would finish early, and Stefan would give them permission to go down to a swimming hole, much like the pages did. Willow never got to go- Fall wouldn't permit such luxuries. But on one such day, Stefan granted her permission, told her to go relax, with the others. He said since so much work was done with Fall as of late, she deserved the break. She raised her eyebrows at this remark (she noticed no progress) but didn't argue. Sitting in the shade of a tree whilst her brothers played in the water with the others like a bunch of infants sounded downright dandy to her.  
  
She saw the four teenage boys scramble down towards the shore, stripping down to their loincloths and diving in. She had no desire to join them- too much physical effort to lift her shirt hem over her head, thanks to the wonderful treatment Fall gave her. She noticed Kit sitting in the same fashion she intended to, staring at the hoodlums, splashing around like lunatics, attempting to dunk one another as they used to do as young children.  
  
Willow plopped down, not saying a word, and leaned against the tree trunk.  
  
At first, Kit was surprised to see the other female stable hand there- wasn't she supposed to be with the crazy horse? Well, she tossed that aside and just watched her watch the guys, wondering what she was thinking. Then, a terrible, wicked idea came to her.  
  
"Hey Willow?" she casually spoke up.  
  
"Hm?" she asked, kind of in a trance, off in her own little world.  
  
"You know what would be kind of neat? If someone would jump into the lake from that bluff just there." She motioned to a rock jutting out on the east side of the pond, about two stories high above the water.  
  
"Sure would." Willow absent mindedly agreed.  
  
Kit paused. "Well, how about you? You know what- I dare you to jump off that."  
  
Willows interest was sparked. "A dare?"  
  
"Are you afraid?" Kit taunted.  
  
Willow narrowed her eyes, defiantly rose to her feet and started walking to the bottom of the bluff.  
  
"Wait!" Willow turned to see Kit, complete with the evilest sparkle in her hazel eyes. "I wasn't done yet. I dare you to do it- in only your underclothes."  
  
Now, when Willow heard THIS little detail, the sensible part of her mind blatantly refused. Fortunately, the insensible part of her mind was far larger. She WAS a bit apprehensive about not wearing over clothes in front of Brock and Bowen, but she had never turned down a dare before- River and Wind could vouch for that!  
  
She nodded, slowly at first, then faster as she was surer that she would do it. "I'm game."  
  
This was exactly what Kit had counted on.  
  
She would get up there and then chicken out- embarrassment galore, not to mention that she was in her UNDERWEAR. Ha ha! (Not exactly the most genius, imaginative plan, but Kit would take what she would get)  
  
River was about to jump on Bowen's back, playing roughly with the other guys, when a figure caught his eye.  
  
A girl was climbing the bluff, muttering to herself. She wore nothing but her under clothes, so this was no Lady, as they never do such things.  
  
When she reached the top, she gallantly looked around, enjoying the view.  
  
"River what are you doing?" Brock asked, shaking Wind off his arm. He looked in the direction River intensely stared.  
  
A young lady stood on the bluff, looking at the lake. Her hair blew across her face, and her eyes were filled with determination. Her stance was very familiar. She was going to jump......  
  
"Willow!" Wind cried out, seeing his sister about to do something daft, something he was gonna do.  
  
She looked up, startled, and lost her balance.  
  
  
  
Well? Huh? Whatcha think? Yes I do know that usually horses shoes are changed by a blacksmith or a farrier (or what ever they're called- I can't remember), but wind has to do something useful- so kindly ignore that error. I am sorry about the lack of updates, but we lost my great grandmother lately, I have an over abundance of HW, dance, practice, and football games. I am very tired. Just be glad this happened before I graduate. Sorry. Thank you reviewers, and I would like to recommend Vulpes Lapis- the BEST author ever, and all of their stories. They are great for all ages. I love you vl! Sorry, I've been basking in those glorious stories for the past two weeks and they have been the only light in theses dim times. Thanx vl. Great, I sound like an ad for vl..... well, um, r/r.  
  
Thanx............... 


	6. Back to the Healers

Salut, Mon Amis! Hey have any of you noticed that the classes that should be most difficult are the ones that are easiest to pass. Honors French 2 is the easiest class ever. Biology is also the best class. But this may all be combined to the fact that my bestist buddies are in those classes. Well, uh, thanx for reading and I hope that you enjoy.  
  
Disclaimer: there is nothing in this story that I own, it's all Tamora Pierces', except for my characters, and for my situations, but you guys know all that.  
  
Um, on with the story- oh, you may recognize the first few lines. I hate cliffhangers and just realized that I wrote one, so I am trying to refresh your memories. Thanx!  
  
Chapter Six: Back to the Healers  
  
A young lady stood on the bluff, looking at the lake. Her hair blew across her face, and her eyes were filled with determination. Her stance was very familiar. She was going to jump......  
  
"Willow!" Wind cried out, seeing his sister about to do something daft, something he was gonna do.  
  
She looked up, startled, and lost her balance.  
  
(A/N: Here's where the new stuff starts)  
  
Willow uneasily wobbled on the edge of the slippery rock, for it had rained earlier, and then glided off.  
  
She plummeted towards the water at an alarming speed. At the last possible moment, she got into a position where she would merely hit the water and get the wind knocked out of her, a half-shallow dive, if you will, instead of breaking all the bones in her spine by hitting the rock-hard liquid broadside.  
  
You could hear a united groan of sympathy from her ever-captivated audience (all but Kit that is. She just smiled evilly.)  
  
Willow surfaced and slowly worked her way to the group of rowdy youths, although right then, they weren't very rowdy at all.  
  
She inhaled and exhaled heavily, fighting to regain a regular breathing pattern.  
  
"W....W.....WIND!" she rasped.  
  
"What were you doing dolt?" he retorted.  
  
"I WAS enjoying the view, preparing to dive, enjoying my day off, no thanks to you!" she moaned, rubbing her left side, which was one whole ache.  
  
By then Brock and Bowen had gotten over the initial shock of her fall, and now fully realized that she wore no over clothes.  
  
When she felt their eyes on her, she remembered it was because she wasn't fully dressed.  
  
"Well, I am gonna go lay out in the sun for a while and, uh, dry off. I don't feel much like swimming anymore."  
  
She slowly bogged her way through the water, towards the shore, aching with the slightest movement.  
  
That's when Brock noticed the darker spot near her spine on the left side.  
  
"Hey Willow- c'mere." She resentfully obeyed. "Turn around." Again, she followed his order.  
  
Indeed, his suspicions were confirmed. It was a bruise- purple and blue and squarish in shape, about four inches by six inches wide and across. "Where did you get that?"  
  
"What- oh that?" she turned around to face them, adjusting a slipping breast band and blushing. "I hit the fence there- twice, I think."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Fall threw me into the fence and that is where I hit it- numerous times." She explained as if talking to a child. He nodded his head.  
  
Now that she was closer, and he could maneuver her about as he wish, he had her turn around in a circle, very slowly.  
  
They all noticed scratches, bite marks, bruises, cuts healing, and a deep gash on her right side, on her waist, that held three or four stitches.  
  
"Willow!" River, Brock, and Bowen exclaimed in unison.  
  
"I know, I know- I'm not supposed to get 'em wet- yea, yea." She grumbled.  
  
"No not that." River cast that aside, and paused to collect his swirling thoughts. "Wh...Where did you ever GET them? WHY?" River worriedly asked, after stuttering for about five minutes.  
  
"I got them a few days ago. Duke Baird did it."  
  
"That still leaves why."  
  
"Fall tossed me onto a pitchfork. Look, I don't see what the big deal is- Stefan knows, and I'm a big girl- I can take care of myself."  
  
River, apparently, was still hung up on the "why" part. "P.Pitchfork!! Why didn't you tell one of us?" he outburst.  
  
"Calm down, and yes- a pitchfork. And I didn't tell you because I knew your reaction would be exactly like this!" Willow got louder as she spoke, until the last words were a shout.  
  
Brock laid a careful hand on her shoulder. "Ok, down girl." He chuckled.  
  
River put on his "older brother" look, and plainly stated. "You can't work with the horse anymore."  
  
That took everyone aback. He was defying his sister- a feat rarely done, or even attempted. They all stepped back and turned to see what the girl who seemed as unpredictable as her charge at times would do.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You heard me- I'm not letting you work with him anymore." Brock and Bowen were amazed- this took a lot of guts. Wind was shocked at his moronic brothers' boldness- even Wind would never have even had THOUGHT of doing that.  
  
"You don't own me River, and you can't tell be what to do."  
  
The mesmerized audience followed the conversation from speaker to speaker, impatiently waiting to see what the other would say next.  
  
"Willow- he's going to kill you! Look at what he's done already! He won't ever be broken."  
  
"I refuse to believe you."  
  
"He's too wild! I'm not going to let you kill yourself!"  
  
"No." She glared at her brother, hating him now more than she had ever hated anyone. She couldn't even stand to look at him anymore, for fear that the tears forming in the corners of her eyes, stinging them, blurring her vision, and threatening to show her true emotions would tumble down her face and betray her slave life of never acting like a person. She looked down instead. "He's gotten better. I CAN do this."  
  
"No you can't- no one can!"  
  
"YES I can- I'm not weak and he CAN be broken. And it would be a lot easier if someone would believe in me!" She ended up screaming at the water, as she still refused to look at him. As fast as lightning, she pulled out of Brocks hold and spun around, kicking her brother on the left side of his face in a standard drill she'd been doing since she was three. In a movement like quicksilver, she reversed it to hit the other side, then did a straight kick in his rock-like stomach. He actually faltered and stepped back into Bowen's grip. Wind reached out instinctively to his upset sister, but that was a mistake. She fluidly grabbed his out-stretched hand and flipped him onto his back, hitting the water with an audible "SMACK!"  
  
She looked up into four fearful faces and then stomped to shore. Willow picked up her clothes and grabbed her boots. "Thanks for a lovely time." She spat at the dumbfounded young men in the water. She turned and nodded at Kit, then started jogging back to the stables and back to her charge, embracing her day with a new attitude. A bruise on the sole of her foot inhibited the way she walked, but she still held her head high as tears fell in silent floods on her already saturated skin.  
  
No one said anything until she was just a small blur in the distance, limping up the hill to the grazing pasture.  
  
"There really is a lot to her isn't there?" Bowen thought out loud.  
  
"Let's just say that we got off easy." Wind replied.  
  
"Meaning that we are in one piece." River gasped, struggling to get to his feet on the muddy bottom of the pond. Bowen helped him get there, and they all looked at each other, in stunned silence.  
  
River resolved to sleep in the bathroom that night, and maybe all the nights in the week following.  
  
  
  
A man, dressed in all black, paced, wringing his hands. He had a hood and mask hanging off his tunic, but his head remained uncovered. His tousled cinnamon hair was damp, and beads of perspiration glistened and ran down his temples.  
  
There was a scraping of metal and wood and a few muffled swears. A trap door opened from the floor, and the man jumped.  
  
"What did they say- for that, what did HE say?" the pacing sergeant nervously asked to the blackness underground.  
  
A woman appeared from that same darkness, her mask and hood hanging in the same fashion as his. She wore similar clothing-all black-but she had a red cord over each shoulder signifying superiority. Her face was far from pretty. She had red and pink scars, still new and glistening with the heat, in various spots along her face, neck, and chest. Those cold gray eyes of hers set deep in her skull were that of a raptor's, showing no fear, nor any mercy. A strawberry blond mane was cut like men's hair. She was small and quick, unlike this male counterpart- large and tiresome.  
  
"Our plan ruined by those guards?" he asked, impatient because she never answered his earlier inquiry.  
  
"No dolt. They aren't angry. Everyone expected this. Now we just continue on, more carefully of course, until we get further instructions. Now go- rally your men, and do it quietly this time. I don't want a repetition of the inn, Narmer." She flapped a hand and Narmer scurried out into the night, pulling his hood and mask on, blending into the darkness.  
  
The woman sat at a table and propped her head in her hands. Narmer was a bother, but a better sergeant you'd never find. He was made for the army, through and through. She sighed. 'I'll just put up with him as long as I have to- not a second more.' She gruesomely thought. 'The plan is working beautifully, as long as the circle- and HIM- don't change their minds again. And if I stay in their good graces.' She shuttered. The circle often accused those who questioned their authority with treason, and the punishment for treason was grim. She preferred to keep her insides IN the inside, thank you, and her bones would like to stay in their present place- not be hanging from someone's neck or earlobes or used to make a chair. 'Whatever they say- goes, no ifs, ands, or buts.' She resolved. 'I just hope their conditions change soon and we begin on the second part of the plan. I want to get on with this business, and get back home. Carry out this prophesy, and return home.' She sighed once more. 'Just sit tight now, and it will all work itself out in time.'  
  
She rose, dangerous grin on her face, eyes gleaming with bloodthirsty savageness and walked out into the rising night, pulling her mask and hood over her scarred, pitiless face to keep off the drizzle.  
  
'Yes,' she thought to herself, 'all in time.....'  
  
  
  
A few days after Willow's encounter with "the cliff", as the stable hands had named it, Willow stepped outside through the wide stable doors, squinting at the sunlight. She dusted her hands off on her even dustier shirt and heaved an exasperated sigh.  
  
Walking over to her brothers, who were standing on the opposite side of the fence, outside the exercise ring, she grinned.  
  
The picture they made- Wind and River both clenching Fall's rope white- knuckled, and Fall was merely standing there, looking as docile as a sleeping babe, chewing on some hay- was enough to make her wet herself. (She didn't although it was all she could do to control herself.)  
  
She tied his tether around her wrist, up to her elbow. Then, almost one- handedly, she grabbed the bridal slung over her shoulders.  
  
She was gathering a crowd. Not only were her brother's there to watch her, Stefan and the other hostlers wanted to witness this session. The Wildmage, there on one of her frequent visits to the stable, sat on the fence railing, eating an apple, curious on what the younger girl could do with the monster.  
  
Right off, everyone noticed how easygoing her was with her. He no longer fidgeted when she coaxed the bridal onto his head and she constantly stroked his nose and cooed to him, thanking him for being such a "good, nice boy." (The whole time, however, she prayed to Mithros, The Great Goddess, the Graveyard Hag, Minos- ANYONE who would listen, that he would behave himself.)  
  
He was doing well and gently stood there as she draped the blanket on his back and placed the saddle on it. They watched in wonderment, her movement like a well-oiled machine as she tightened straps, shortened stirrups, and routinely nudged his stomach with her foot so he would let out his bellyful of air. She gave her last minute checks of all the equipment and then mounted. Her audience held their breath as she started walking him in the broad circle. They all heaved a large sigh when she did this with ease.  
  
About the third time around, River notice Willow getting anxious. Fall was getting a mischievous quality in his distinctive eyes.  
  
Willow and Fall both knew she would have to nudge him into a trot soon, and that is where trouble usually arose. They rode around once more, then Willow readjusted her position in the saddle, preparing for the worst.  
  
She kicked his sides with her heels as lightly as she could manage (A/N: don't worry folks- no spurs in my story! I don't care if it ain't correct- I hate them!!!) That's when Fall lost it.  
  
He violently shook his head and paced about. When Willow just tugged on the reigns in response, trying to control him, he started bucking wildly. Everyone, Wildmage included, watched in horror, gripping the railing as hard as they could, unable to do anything but pray for their friend. They feared that if they tried to interfere, Fall would jump the fence, throwing her off into a fencepost, killing her. Her only hope was herself.  
  
She frantically listed her options as she unwrapped his rope tether from her arm and retied it to the saddle horn. Number one: stay on until she was bucked off and landed on the ground where she'd most likely get trampled, or worse, land on the fence and break her spine, which is pretty important. Number two: swing down and risk getting kicked to stop his madness. Number three: jump off and run like hell. All of this thinking took about two excruciatingly long seconds of intense strength on Willows part. (She'd have to be strong to keep up with Fall's antics.)  
  
None of these sounded all too appealing to her, but if she must choose, number two would have to be it.  
  
As quickly and carefully as she could, Willow got to the ground, which was wonderfully solid and still beneath her feet.  
  
She grabbed his bridal in her hands and was trying to bring him down on all fours to face her- you know, to stare him down until her would obey her again.  
  
But this horsie wouldn't stand for it. The moment he knew the weight on his back had gone, he started waiting for her to get in the right position, and the right time to execute.....there it was. He spun as fast as he could, making her stance unbalanced and disorienting her for a brief moment, just long enough to recoil his powerful hind legs and kick, hitting her squarely in the chest.  
  
Willow flew into the outer wall of the stable and became unconscious. Absolutely EVERYONE, even Kit, and except the Wildmage, risked it and flew to her aid.  
  
River sensibly looked for Fall, expecting to see him preparing to charge the whole group.  
  
Fall stood there- just stood- unnaturally looking up at the tree by the fence that offered shade to that portion of the ring. River puzzledly searched for the Wildmage, finding her balancing herself on the fence, but otherwise, she looked asleep.  
  
"Stefan, what-?" he started.  
  
"Meditation. It's wha' keepin' 'im so calm. She's in 'is 'ead, controlling 'im, or sommat like tha'. Never min' tha' now. Les' get yer sis' to a healer- Duke Baird'll fix 'er righ' up."  
  
No one else seemed upset about Daine, except Wind who also never had seen such a thing done, so River let it be.  
  
Since the healers were at the other end of the palace, and carrying Willow's dead weight wasn't the same as a saddle, the male stable hands traded her off, until Stefan got so tired of waiting for them to switch, he grabbed her small form and carried her the rest of the way.  
  
  
  
Willow woke up in a place that was both unfamiliar and smelled rather unpleasant, which is farfetched for a girl who works with HORSES all day. She was lying on a cot and felt as if she'd been kicked by a horse....... oh, but wait- she HAD been kicked by one. There was a curtain to her right, and she could hear muffled voices on the other side of the creamy linen.  
  
"She has four broken ribs and a concussion. I'm amazed he didn't do more." That sounded like the good Duke-healer.  
  
"She did very well with him." Stefan.  
  
"I think she should give up on him and stay in bed for a while." River, of course.  
  
"She has to decide that." Surprisingly, that was Wind. (See- he rarely spoke on these issues, plus it was in her favor)  
  
"'She' is fine and 'She' can hear you." Willow bitterly interrupted their private meeting of how 'She' was gonna live her life.  
  
The curtain parted, and Duke Baird appeared, with everyone else silently following, a bit like a giant shadow.  
  
"How's my favorite hostler on this fine afternoon?"  
  
"In terrible pain, but otherwise peachy," she sarcastically grumbled.  
  
"Oh yea. She's fine." Wind smiled. If she was already making wisecrack remarks, she was gonna be all right.  
  
"Now, you experienced a concussion when you knocked your skull on the wall, and fractured your 7th and 8th ribs, on the lower left side, but are lucky because they didn't pierce anything important, like your heart. You have no internal bleeding either, fortunately, and-"  
  
"Excuse me- sir?"  
  
Duke Baird looked at his patient who interrupted him. He realized that she didn't have a clue of what he was saying.  
  
"Oh dear me- I'm dreadfully sorry. I spend too much time with Numair. I'm developing his speech tendencies.  
  
"No, well, let's see.....you have a bruise on your brain and a bump in the head, but, besides a headache, you'll be fine. You broke two ribs, but otherwise, you're 'peachy,'" he explained for her, dumbing it down a bit, and then mocking her at the end.  
  
"Peachy?" she asked.  
  
"Peachy."  
  
"Oh, so it just FEELS a hundred times worse."  
  
Everyone smirked at her bad mood.  
  
"So doc, fix 'er up righ'. She's go' work to do tomorrow. That' 'orse waits fer no man... or woman."  
  
Willow and Stefan exchanged a smile, and Stefan led the group of horrified hostlers out, back to their chores.  
  
Willow liked thinking that Stefan had enough faith in her, and knew her well enough, to know that she would be back at work tomorrow. She was glad he EXPECTED her to do it, and wasn't going to try to make her go back to bed and get rest like Brock or River would do.  
  
He treated her like an equal, or even a better, as if he respected her, and no one ever did that, but not many do what she had planned- no, had EXPECTED of her. That made her day, and made her feel like she finally found a home.  
  
With that, she looked up at the Healer-Duke and said, promptly forgetting her grammar lessons with Mother, "You heard the man, Your Grace. I got work to do tomorrow so I need to be fixed up good."  
  
The duke sighed, shook his head, and rolled his eyes as he had seen Nealan do so often.  
  
"You hostlers- everything's about that stable." He joked.  
  
"Is there anything else?"  
  
Since the duke couldn't tell if she was kidding or not, he just applied the best healing her could muster. She'd need the strength.  
  
  
  
Ok- that's all for now. I had planned to make it a bit longer, but a can use that next chappie. I really wanted to post today. I have some River/Ema romance next chap, and we hear a bit more about Ema. We also discover a secret about Kit and Bowen has some trouble with Stefan. OH- and we see the Monarchs. I just gave away too much, so I will stop that talk now.  
  
BTW~ for all interested- I have need for a beta reader. Email me if interested. I am not the best typist if you haven't noticed, and I need a filter for typos. A beta would be a good idea then, so let me know if you would like the position, or if you just want more info. Plus, you get sneak peaks at upcoming chaps! Thanx all....  
  
(Hey wanna know something neato? I was actually awake one day in history, and I found out that the greatest city in ancient Persia was called Persepolis. Persepolis- Persopolis, get it? AHH! And the first ruler of ancient Egypt to rule a united upper and lower kingdom was Narmer. I used it! Get it? Haha!  
  
AND- some of the first ancient Greeks had a chief deity by the name of the Great Mother, or Earth Goddess. WOW WEE!!! Ok, I'm done now....) 


	7. A Vicious Temper

Good Lord- it has taken me so long and I am so very sorry! This will also be short because I have been suffering the worst writers block ever and if I don't post this, nothing will ever get put up here. If any one has any ideas, they would be greatly appreciated. Thanx……..

Btw~ I would love to thank my reviewers now, before the chapter, and I'll list 'em at the end. K? Thanx…… 

Disclaimer: this isn't mine, and never was. The only thing I do own is the plot and a few characters that you will be able to recognize as not made by the amazing Tamora Pierce, who owns everything else. Thanx………… (I say that a lot)

And we're off!!!

Chapter seven:  A Vicious Temper

Stefan strode down the long hallway to get back to the security of the stables. A mob of teenagers followed behind him, dumb-stricken. 

"You're…………….. You're going to let her keep on with that…….. that demon horse!"  Brock stammered. 

"Yes."

"Bu' da, tha' things gonna kill 'er!"

"She knows the risk, as do I."

"Bu'-"

"No. It's 'er choice. I jus' 'appen to know wha' tha' choice is," Stefan interrupted his son.

"You can't possibly understan' wha' 'e'll end up doin' to 'er!" Bowen screamed, drawing attention of nearby servants and palace dwellers. "We're lookin' at death 'ere!" 

"Don't try to tell HER that." River muttered, rubbing his bruised ribs from the attack, just four days before. 

"How daft do ye think I am?" was the crisp reply.

"Son, she's no' gonna die from workin' wiv' a HORSE."

"If she was taming a hurrok she'd have a better chance." Bowen clearly declared, stepping in Stefan's path, challenging his father's judgment.

Stefan stopped and stared into his son's jade eyes that, like now, flashed silver when he was angry.

"Would the four of ye go back t' work please? I need t' speak wiv' me son alone."

Brock, Wind, and River looked at each other and then fled back to their jobs. After working with an angry Stefan before, they knew the experience needn't be repeated.

Kit hesitated and looked to her boss, who also happened to be her father figure. She knew that look in his eyes all too well and decided to be obedient- for once. She walked away, but quickly, on a whim of her own, decided to hide behind a corner and scare Bowen when he walked by there. Kit stood for a moment, waiting for her chance to brighten her only friend's day. She could also hear what they were saying, so she figured to throw manners out the window (as usual) and do a bit of eavesdropping- don't all teenage girls at one point or another?

Unfortunately, like all eavesdropping, it would end in tears because someone would find out something they were happier NOT knowing.

"Wha' 'as gotten into ye?" Stefan demanded a reason for his son's insubordination.

Bowen glared at his father and growled. "Ye and I both know tha' 'e'll KILL 'er!"

"Ye've said tha' already, bu' ye haven't mentioned 'ow a girl as smart as Willow will be outsmarted by a 'orse- ANY 'orse!"

"She doesn't 'ave t' be smart! If he bucks 'er into a wall, or if she flies onto another pitchfork an' 'its sommat vital- she's dead!" 

"Why do ye care so much anyway? Ye seem t' 'ate 'er- forever arguin'. Kit an' Brock figh' less!"

It took Bowen just a hair too long to respond, and he let something slip to his father's ever-observant eye. Stefan saw, he recognized something, even if he'd never seen it in Bowen before. It was a look ever parent recognized once they see it in their child, and most dread it.

"I don't care bu'……………… bu' ye jus' can't do tha' to 'er!" Bowen stormed off, exactly like Willow did the first day they met.

Stefan stood, thoughtful, for a little while, and then turned to see his son down at another end of the hall, disappearing behind a corner, hopefully going back to his chores.

'When did 'e become 'is mother?' Stefan sighed. 'Mind of 'is own, 'e 'as.'

He then went to the notaries to attend to some business he'd been putting off.

                Kit leaned against the wall, slowly sliding down it until she sat on the floor. Silent waterfalls caressed her flushed cheeks. For the first time since she was three, she cried. 

(A/N: I'll let your imaginations have some fun with why she is showing this emotion. Hee hee hee…. I like being evil- it's fun.)

'AH-HA! This is going to be so great! She'll be so surprised to see me!' Brock thought in all of (what he thought) his glory.

                He "cleverly" got away from river and Wind by ducking into a hall that he said led to the servants privy. (They're still new- they won't know!) After they passed, he scurried back to the healers, taking a longer route to avoid Stefan and backtracked when he got lost, which was happened often. (He's a _stable hand_. Give 'im a break.)

                He finally stepped into the office section of the infirmary, finding the Duke sitting at his desk, scribbling on a piece of parchment with a quill. 

                Just as Brock opened his mouth to say something, the Duke spoke. "Good to see you back here, Brock. Are you just here on a casual visit, yearning for a chance to see magical healing first hand, or, perchance, are you here to see a young lady patient by the name of Willow?" The Duke caught him off guard, yet never even looked up form his parchment and scribbling.

                "Well, I……………. Uh…………. You see……………. Sir?"

                "She's in the back, fiddling with a little game the King left in here one day. She seems to be incredibly amused by it."

                "Yes sir," Brock mumbled and hurriedly jogged to the back of the infirmary.

                Willow sat upright in her cot, holding a three-sided block of wood with holes in it. She placed small pegs in all of the holes, spare one, then started to jump pegs over one another, placing the jumped ones in her lap. 

Brock watched curious as she removed all but two, which were several holes apart. 

"Damn, did it again." She swore, then replaced all the pegs and started over.

As fascinated as he was, Brock never noticed he was moving. Yes- he was moving towards her cot and sat down next to her feet. Together, they stared at the small game, bespelled by its entrancing simplicity. Willow had reduced it to down to two pegs for the third time in a row when she decided to set the game aside and greet her visitor.

"Well, well, Mchurrrick alcuome sayanal ish raenackh." 

She received a rather blank stare from her guest, who also was a bit shocked that she wasn't surprised to see him. "Um, Willow, I Know that's not Common, but that's about it."

"It's K'mir.  My mother taught me- that's a saying of theirs. 'The sun will rise even when the horses sleep.' It has something to do with one of their Horse Lords, but I forget which one.  Chavi perhaps………..anyway, it deals with irony and the impossible."

"Well, why did you mention it? Is me being here ironic or impossible?"

"No, I guess not. It just seemed fitting."

"How do you say it again?"

"Em-chur-rick," she pronounced. 

"Em-chur-rick," he repeated.

"All-come-ay."

"All-come-ay."

"Say-an-nall."

"Say-an-nall."

"Ish."

"Ish."

"Rain-nak."

"Rain-nak," he finished, clumsy foreign words twisting his tongue.

"Good," she giggled, thinking of how he reminded her of River when he was first learning K'miri, turning the words over in his mouth, feeling their sounds. "We'll make a K'mir of you yet."

"So, is that where you are from?"

"No, Mother just knew K'miri tribesmen through her work."

"And what was her work?" Willow leaned back with a sigh- this again? 'Damn his persistence!' she thought passionately.

"Why do you want to know?"

"I don't know," he mumbled, reading the back of the game where instructions were carved into the wood.  "I'm just nosy, I guess. Wanted to know more about you- everything's a big secret…….."

There was something in the way he said it that got to her soft spot. He truly cared and she desperately wanted to tell someone, but somehow, at the same time, she knew that he wasn't the one she wasted to share with.

"She………… I mean………….. I-I can't. It's not you, I just……. I can't." He sighed.

"I know, and I was kinda expecting that. But, I dunno, I guess I just figured that if I badgered you with it long enough, you'd give in and tell me, just to shut me up. That's what usually happens anyway. I just want to know more about you. What do you like to do, what foods do you hate, what is your favorite color, why you blatantly refuse to give up on Falcon's Fall-"

"Fine. I like-" she started.

"And where you come from. What happened that was so bad you can't tell me? What happened to your mom- who was she? What was her job, even? Who was your dad? What was your childhood like? Why did you come to Corus, of all places? How did you meet Daine and Numair? What compels you to get up everyday when you know that Fall will attempt to kill you again? And where the hell did you learn to fight like that? I've never seen anyone move that way, save for a Shang. It was like their combat technique!"

"I………..it…….."she stuttered, eyes brimming with tears. He wanted to know some things about her even SHE wasn't privy to, and everything else she wanted to scream out at the top of her lungs.

She hated herself so much for a minute, and then thought about that. Why should she feel bad about wanting to keep information about herself and her brothers disclosed for the world? How dare he be mad at her for wanting privacy! How dare he make her hate herself! 

"Well, all of that works both ways you know!" she spat, turning the inquiries around.

He paused and then asked a bit confused, "What?" she had the conversation in her hands like a spinner's top, constantly rotating it.

"But……… wha………wait a minute! When did this conversation get put on me?"

Well how do you expect me to answer questions that you wont even answer yourself?" she cleverly retorted.

"Well, uh, look, this isn't about me!"

"Why not? Why am I always the one being asked questions? How come you never give out your private information- your past? Go bother my brother's for once, but don't expect any miracles form those two!"

Brock sat there for a moment, and they stared at each other, daring the other to speak. Finally, he took his leave and Willow lay alone in the dim glow of the candlesticks, mentally cursing her vicious temper.

Well, that's all for now. I am having trouble with this one part with King Jonathan and Raoul. They finally get introduced into the story and I can't even word it right!

Btw- the bate reader position is still up for grabs. Anyone………………..anyone? Sigh…………………. Well, let me know if you're interested A.S.A.P.! K? 

I know- long wait for nothing good, please don't hurt me, I'm trying really I am, and now with football season over, I have MUCH more time!! I'll get an update soon ok? Thanx!!!!!

Thank you reviewers, I can't post you all now, like I said I would, so I'll do it next chap! I promise!!! THANX!!!


	8. The Shang Order

            Russetwolf peers around corner. "Is anyone there? Did you all leave because you were so tired of waiting? SOOO sorry! I just had the worst dry spell of writers block I've ever had! This took me so long, and I will waste no more time dillydallying and will just get to it! Thanx so much!!!

Disclaimer: this is not mine, only a few characters, and the rest is Tamora Pierces'!

Chapter Eight: The Shang Order 

Jonathan of Conte, King of the Realm of Tortall, paced back and forth in his study, wringing his hands, Normally a calm man, his behavior worried his wife, Thayet, said to be one of the most beautiful women in the world. 

"Sit Jon, please. Raoul will be here any moment."

He took a deep breath and sat down by the fireplace. "This is NOT what I need right now. We aren't even finished cleaning up the mess with Scanra, and now a revolt is forming right under my nose here in Corus!"

Just then, a giant of a man burst into the room. "Jonathan!" Raouls dark eyes portrayed his franticness. 

The king leapt to his feet and rushed to his long-time friend. "Raoul! What happened?" 

"Ran…from…stables. Right outside…city gates…masked men…captured seven…of my soldiers…and…two sergeants…Left this." He held something in his hand. The king took it and Raoul collapsed in an armchair.

Jonathan stepped closer to the fire, examining the object. Once he realized what it was, he dropped it in surprise and disgust. 

"It's a shrunken head!" Thayet shrieked when she saw it hit the floor by the hearth. (Well wouldn't you?). Jonathan composed himself and picked it back up, and then he knelt by the firelight, turning it over and over in his hands, absorbing in its grotesque makeup. That's when he noticed the note tied to the stringy hair.

"Beware Jonathan of Conte

And those loyal to him.

We are the Night and

Its' Nightmares and you

Are the supreme target."

"It's signed 'The Owls'," Raoul mused, glancing over Jon's shoulder. 

"What do you think they want?" Thayet asked, thinking aloud.

"Whatever it is, they are persistent." Jonathan replied. "Very, very persistent."

"Oh stop that!" Willow told the fidgety horse. Fall was constantly shifting his weight and twitching his tail while she attempted to comb it. Fall snorted his last defiant remark, and then started to behave. 

"You've certainly gotten very far with him," a voice behind her made her jump. She turned to see Brock, leaning against a wooden support pole. 

"You all keep saying that, but I don't see it." She turned back around and continued to brush and comb her charge. He got a bit closer—a lot bit closer actually. He came up directly behind her and grabbed another comb. He wrapped both arms around the outside of hers and started to comb the mustangs' tail, too. She stopped for a second, and he noticed. 

"Here—like this. Long strokes." He grabbed her small hand in one of his large ones and started combing Falls' tail with her. He bent down to whisper in her ear, "Of course, you know this. I know you know this, but I just thought you might enjoy some company."

She spun to face him and realized how close they were. It was kinda nice…

"NO!" She pushed him back. "I don't want to do this!" She screamed, more to herself than to him. Fall didn't appreciate the yelling, so he decided to take the situation in hand (or hoof). 

He turned around and did the first kind thing he'd ever done to her, or anyone for that matter. He nudged her with his nose and affectionately nibbled her shirt. Willow was just so shocked she didn't know what else to do but stand and let him do it. Brock's stupor at the stallion's behavior could have made Mithros Himself chuckle, for Brock literally stood, jaw hanging open, arms dangling, eyes wide with disbelief. Eventually, Willow started to nuzzle back and draped herself onto his neck, tears soaking his mane. This went on for another minute or two, but soon Fall shook his head to remove the crying girl as if to say, Ok, enough. Get back to grooming my tail.  

She giggled. Even if she wasn't Daine, she knew she must trust his Horse Sense, however warped it seemed to be sometimes. Willow glanced to see how Brock was faring to her crazy charges conduct. She fell over laughing, but yet, he still stood there, shock having frozen him in place. After composing herself, nothing seemed to snap him out of his trance. That is until she punched him, right in the stomach. He doubled over.

"Jeez……….what was that for?" he groaned.  

"I had to call you back to earth somehow. You were off somewhere else, and I wanted to apologize."

"Apologize for yelling at me or socking me in the stomach?"

"Both." She offered her hand for him to shake. He pushed it away and braced himself on the wooden pole again. 

"Well, apology not accepted. The only way I can possible do so is if you tell me what I want to know- the whole truth now."

'This AGAIN?' she thought. 'He just won't give up!' 

She sighed deeply and thought about it. Then she got an idea. 

"I'll tell you what- 13 questions. Whatever you want to know, except if you ask something too personal (and you know what I mean by that) or something I don't know, you have to trust my judgment in not saying anything, Ok?" 

He mulled it over "Deal. Where did you learn to K'mir?"

'He doesn't waste time does he?' she reflected. "Hold on." She grabbed his hand and led him to a spare stall where they could sit and talk without being distracted.

"Ok- answer."

"Well, my mother taught me and my brothers when we were growing up. She also taught us Bazhir, Doi, Scanran, Sarain, Maren, Yamani, Carthaki, and the language of the Banjiku, although Grandam may have taught us that. She was Banjiku, and had falcons." 'Whoa, coincidence or what?' She'd never made that connection before. "Now, 12 more questions."

"Where did she learn those?"

"On her travels. By the time she was three, she left home and only went back one time after that. She was seeing her mom and dad at Midwinter, and then she left for the last time. I don't know if she ever intended to go back and never will. She died when we were six, well, five and a half actually, and she was only 29 when she died in her last battle. 11 left."

"Battle?"

"My mother was Rachel Stonecutter, the last Shang Falcon. 10 left."

"Whoa…hey, that last one wasn't a question!"

"Was there a question mark on the end of the statement?"

"Well, yea…"

"Then it was a question." He paused, thinking.

"She really was Shang? That's how you learned to fight?"

"Yes and yes. I not only fight with my hands but with any weapon, save a Yamani glaive. I would love to learn though. 8 left- that last one was two."

He gave her a sour glare. "Who was your dad?"

She looked away. "I…I don't know. It could have been anyone I guess, although mother hinted that he was from the far west." He looked at her suspiciously, but then accepted her answer. 

"What is your favorite color?" He chose a more lighthearted question to ask.

"Yellow. 6 left"

"How come you keep working with that horse of yours? You and I both know that, given the chance, he wouldn't hesitate to kill you, or anyone for that matter."

"I guess because I know that inside of him somewhere is a gentle creature. You saw yourself today that he has some compassion. 5."

"That's true. Well, maybe you'll prove us wrong and truly break him. I never thought it could take months to break a horse, and would say that if it took that long, it's not the horse; it's the lousy trainer.  That's before I met Fall, and you." He looked at her, love swelling in his eyes. She saw it, and looked away. It felt nice to be loved, but his love wasn't the love she desired. She didn't know why she desired it from him, but all she ever wanted, she found in Bowen, though, she'd never say that to anyone, not even Ema.

"5 questions Brock. If you don't use them soon, I'll make this little contract void and you'll lose them forever."

"Fine, fine. Well, lets see…What is your favorite thing in the whole world?"

"To do or to eat or see or what?"

"Just what you like best, over every thing else?"

"Um… well, I always fancied reading, I suppose. Either that or practicing my archery or fighting skills."

"From what I hear from River, you hardly need practice in the archery field." Brock crossed his arms over his chest and looked at her expectantly.

She blushed. "River exaggerates, I assure you. Besides, Wind's better'n me. 4 left, now." 

"If you could go anywhere in the world, right now, where would it be?"

            Wow. No one had ever asked her anything like that before. She wasn't sure what to say, until one place pushed it's way into her mind. "I would love to go to the Royal Gardens at the Imperial Palace. Emperor Kaddar has an affinity for a sweet smelling southern flower called 'honeysuckle', and it is just as pretty as anything, especially this time of year. I remember when I would sneak off from chores to go sit on the outside wall of the gardens, just to smell the scent. It was like smelling the Goddess Herself." Willow fell into a daydream, but quickly snapped back into reality. "3 left."

            Brock stared at her for a few minutes, contemplating on what to ask next, then said, "Tell me where you were born, what you did there that seems to be so terrible, and how you came here." 

            "I…I was born in Carthak. My mother, and I bet my father, weren't Carthaki, as we don't look it. After my mother died, my bothers and I went to live with Grandam, an elderly friend of Mothers. She took care of us, but soon ran low on enough money to support all of us, so, right after our sixth birthday, we got jobs. Unfortunately, the only thing that anyone would hire us for was…slavery. Grandam didn't know about it, otherwise she wouldn't 've let us, and by the time she did discover what we had done, it was too late. We were signed property. 

"We went to the Dyghita House, Home of Lord Untird and Lady Sheera. The Lord was very kind to us, and gave us to his wife as a gift. She was terribly cruel. The cook, Miztoo, took pity on us and let us sleep in the pantry instead of the back porch where Lady Sheera had us. We ate little, mostly the scraps that Miztoo could spare, after feeding herself and her two sons, both three. Whenever Lord could take her away for a day, that meant a day off for us, her house slaves. We would then go to Grandam and she would teach us Banjiku, or about falcons, or she would sit and watch us practice, never convinced we had tried our hardest, and ever ready to make us do our exercises again. 

"Then one day, Grandam passed into the hands of the Dark God, and a week later, Lord joined Him as well. Lady was left to us, and us to her, for four years. Next thing we knew, about 9 months ago, Emperor Kaddar passes his law- no more slavery. As quick as lightning, jobs are very scarce and we are down to our last provisions. We get what we can from Miztoo, now a paid cook, and head to the docks. A small vessel bound for Tyra takes us on, and we learn all there is to know about small fishing boats. The captain sails that thing all around the Inland Sea until setting into port in Tyra. We take on all kinds of jobs, traveling for months, just getting by on the skin of our teeth, until a caravan strikes a deal with us.  They let us at their food stores freely, and let us have place in the wagons at night and they take us to Corus. This wasn't charity of course. The wagon leader was hardly a charitable man. We paid two silver nobles, four months worth of savings, and he wanted more, but Wind would have none of it and told him if tried to lay a hand on me again, he would loose it." Willow paused for a minute, swallowing the bad memories. Brock realized what she had meant when she said "he wanted more". He had tried to take advantage. Mainly he was surprised she didn't tear him limb from limb herself. "Anyway, we got into Corus, robbed 'em blind of bread, cheese, jerky, and apples, then explored the city. That night we met Daine and Numair, and, well, you know the rest."

            She let him digest that epic for a while whilst she thought about all they had been through in the past year. It was quite a lot.  "You have 2 more left." She heard a sob, glanced around, and realized Brock was crying. "It's ok, Brock, really. I got over it, River and Wind got over it; there's no reason to feel sad."

            He looked at her, respect and awe brimming in his eyes; or was that just the tears? "You're such a tough little soldier." He replied, a bit comically. She realized it was all a joke. 

            "You fiend! I…I…"

            "Am stunned by my Player talents?" he offered.

            "Am annoyed by your child-like games! How old are you now? 3? 4? Or were you just born this past Midsummer?"  This prompted a question for Brock.

            "When is your birthday?" He asked, absentmindedly, snapping back into his serious mindset. 'He has more ups and downs than a woman!' she thought. Willow noticed that he now just concentrated on one spot in the floor, strenuously thinking about something else instead of his small prank.  

            "In the heart of Wolf Moon, during Wolf Winter, actually. Even though I have never seen a wolf before. Don't have many in Carthak.

            "Ok- last one, Brock."

            He sat and thought about it, and thought about it, and thought about it, until he had an idea. "I want this last one to be a request. I want you to show off some of your skills in the fighting arts." 

            "Ok."

            "In the practice courts."

            "_Ok."_

            "Right now." 

            She gulped. The pages and squires were in the courts right now. They were open to anyone else, of course, but she had had more than just **one** run in with the noble's sons. She never fought, either; just let them think she was a weakling girl, unfit for "men's work", as they so gallantly phrased it. More than once, they had left her to look after their mounts, which is not part of the hostlers' job—"Th' lads look afte' they own mounts", Stefan had said, "Ye'd best take care ov tha' beast ov yers." 

            Then again, this sounded an awful lot like a dare—more a dare than a request anyway. How could she possibly pass up that? Plus, now, maybe, the nobles would show her a bit more respect, especially if she showed up on Fall and let them have a go at him.

            "You know what Brock—I'll do you one better. Will I not only do that, but I'll put on a small show with Fall. We've been working on a little something, and I think it will be good for him to show off a bit." 

            She got up and left him alone in the straw, speechless. If there was something she could do to set him up on his ears, she'd do it.  

            He scrambled after her, and caught her at the saddle wall (you know the one with all the saddles hanging of it). She was bridling the monster, and he didn't even fidget.  She placed the saddle on his back, and he barely moved. She mounted and he just snorted acceptance.  He watched her put him through his paces, and he observed as she winked and hopped the fence. He raced after, never knowing everyone else (her brothers, Bowen, Kit, and even Ema, who came down to see how they were faring at midday, you know in case they were hungry…who am I kidding? You and I both know that she was only there to see River. Sigh…) was following behind an arms reach behind. 

She reached the practice courts and was galloping Fall in the large practice ring set aside for pages learning to ride. After she saw that she had the attention of some of the nobles, she leaned down to whisper something in Falls ear. That's when he shook his head, and picked up the pace. She started to show off what had resulted in nearly brained her more than once. While she was traveling from Tyra, the trio lived with a group of Bazhir tribesmen. They were adopted by a group called Coiled Snake, and were given lessons in the ways of the tribe. It had only been a two-week stay, but the triplets had learned many things about desert survival, the ways of the tribe, and…trick riding. 

She swung in and out of the saddle, stood on his back without holding on to anything, and even had Fall do some fancy walking.  She attracted many onlookers and spectators. Many were awestruck, but some were skeptical.

"Any halfwit can do that!" one blonde boy yelled. She pulled Fall up right in from of him and dismounted. 

"Really? Then you try it, halfwit. See if you can live up to your word." She cocked an eyebrow like Bowen and handed him the reigns. 

"You ride that pony Jack!" his dark-hair companion cheered. They doubted her. They had before; these were some of the nobles she'd had problems with.

He started to mount Fall. 

River ran at Brocks heels. They had all been eavesdropping on their conversation up in the loft and knew when it had taken a turn for the worse. It had started when River saw Willow lead Brock to an empty stall. Being her big brother and protective, he wanted to know what was what. Then, they just started talking. River heard all about his sister, some stuff he didn't know. When she told about Grandam, Wind looked away and River heard sniffling.  When she told about them being sold to slavery, as volunteers, neither River nor Wind would look into the eyes of everyone that were staring at them. When she told about whom their mom was, they beamed with pride.

When she started talking about " a small show" with her beast, they (her brothers) knew what it was. They knew how she had been hurting herself more than usual lately. Basically, they teamed up on her and threatened to tell everyone about the time she chased about six Bazhir teenage boys across the desert on a horse while they were on foot, all because they peeked on her as she was washing in an oasis. Mind, she wore just a burnoose while this occurred, all she had time to throw on before she started screaming defiant war cries. Anyway, they had finally got it out of her what she was up to, and, although they didn't like it, they didn't dare try to stop her. 

They watched as she put Fall through his paces, then wink and jump the fence. The group raced to meet her at the practice ring just as she offered the reigns to a toe-headed young squire, who obviously didn't know what he was getting himself into.  He climbed over the fence, and that was when Fall realized his Girl was no longer on his back. He started to gallop mischievously, and, unfortunately for him, the squire already had the reigns in his hands and was halfway in the saddle. Fall raced around that circle a full three times before the squire could get on top of him. He tried his best to stop him, or at least slow him, but it was all in vain. Fall started bucking and kicking, something he hadn't done in weeks. The poor boy never stood a chance. Neither did the next three that tried, but when Willow had had enough, and took him in hand, he fell gentle and serene. She tethered him to a fencepost and climbed to the other side with her audience. River and Wind jogged over to her and both gave her an "older brother" look. She was misbehaving, and she knew it, but she was just enjoying this far too much.

"Now for some fun," she grinned at them menacingly. After that, she went up to one of the pages and asked to see their staff.

"Knock yourself out. Do you even know how to use that thing girlie?" he mocked, even though she was a full two years older than him. She laughed evilly.

River grabbed her arm, but quickly let go. "Listen…just, just don't hurt anyone. We both know how you are."  She nodded, eyes gleaming with grim intention.

Willow walked out to an open area so she wouldn't hit anyone whilst she practiced. At first she loosened up by doing some stretches—arm press ups, sit ups, bending and twisting to warm her muscles that had been inactive to this for pretty much the whole time they had been at the Palace. She stood and picked up the staff. The first thing she did was a standard drill that Mother had them do when they were four, with small sticks. She whirled it around her head, back and in front of her. She started slowly, but as her body remembered better, she picked up the pace. The staff suddenly was impossible to spot, as she kept it in constant motion. Then, as fast as lightning, she switched to her left, and rotated it the opposite way, but she never lost her speed. Then, she stopped.

Next, she started a "block and hit" drill, starting slowly and picking up speed and momentum. She didn't end up going as fast, but these motions were far more fluid and would be harder to block. She began to feel a bit winded, but knew that these silly nobles would be sweating by know if they were in her shoes. 'I forgot how fun this was. I shall come down here more often and do this.'  Like before, she switched hands without slowing a hair. 'Thanks for the practice hours Grandam.' She sighed inwardly. 

After she got bored with the staff, she switched to a sword. She didn't start the sword until right before her mother died, but Grandam filled in the holes. (How Grandam knew about fencing she could never figure out, but she knew very well, and taught them soundly.) She did a similar drill as with the staff, but her sword skills were even rustier than her staff skills, so it was a slower start. But, eventually, she picked up the pace and then switched, flawlessly.  The butterfly sweep motion she always had trouble with, and it was the cause of her growing headache now.  Wind saw her problem—she wasn't rotating her wrist correctly—and stepped up to help her. He borrowed another sword and showed her the flaw. Then, together, they did the exercise in rhythm. 

The squires and pages were already impressed when it was just Willow, but when Wind joined her, in perfect unison, they were astonished. River's hands itched to grab a sword. Next to the daggers, fencing was his forte; Grandam had said he must have held a sword when he was born; Willow a bow, and Wind had just his fists. He could beat anyone, any age, at any time, he was that good.    

Anyway, River was fidgeting and kept wringing his hands. Eventually, he worked up the courage to ask the blond squire if he could borrow his sword.

"Keep your hands off, Stable Filth!" he spat.

"Here, take mine. Jack forgets his manners far too often," said a small boy, who lifted a sword that seemed bigger than him. His flaming red hair and green eyes betrayed him as a son of Pirates Swoop. Of course, River didn't know that. He just accepted the sword with a broad smile and sincere thank you. The squire sneered at the page, a first year, but did nothing. The page had proven himself better than the oldest squire, being reared by who his infamous parents were and where his infamous home was. 

River stepped out to join his siblings, but outshined them swiftly. All his work with his daggers aided him in fencing, or was it the other way around? Well, anyway, he caught speed quickly and held it; he switched hands and complicated the exercise seamlessly. Then, without warning, he threw the sword in the air, did a "kick and punch" drill, caught his sword and finished the exercise. He stopped and was hardly breathing hard. 

"Show off," Willow muttered, finishing her drill. Wind soon stopped and together, they returned the swords and began the most amazing thing. It was a pattern dance. Actually, that's how they first learned it, by dancing it. Mother taught them the steppes to the dance, and then as their fighting skill progressed, she replaced the steps with kicks, punches, and blocks. They twirled around, equal distance apart, kicking without hitting one another, punched into a circle and outside of it, and then rippled punches to each person and back, blocking as well, and always maintaining that exact distance. This was Grandam's favorite thing for them to do, just because it gave her such joy to watch them do something so mystical together. They used to hate it, but after Grandam passed, it comforted them. They could feel her presence while they did it, like she was nearby watching. 

There was total silence in the crown, as they were so mystified, there were no words anyone could say. It wasn't that difficult for them to do, but since they picked up speed, and were doing other things before, all three came out of it sweating. 

"Uh…could we see you try your hand at…um, archery?" Brock stuttered. It was what Willow shined at, and he wanted her to show up these noble males. 

About seven pages and squires offered them bows once they got to the archery field. They gladly accepted three, River a smaller one since his archery needed more improvement, and Wind and Willow got two larger ones, both very tight and looked too big for both of them. But when they put that first arrow to the string, then loosed, it was amazing. All three arrows hit the bulls-eye; Wind and Willows hit the very center and went halfway through. Without moving from their location, they set three more arrows through the bulls-eye of three different targets. They barely took any time in between shooting one arrow to the next and aiming was done in their minds, not their eyes. Aiming was the easiest part for them.  There was so much more to their talent, but unfortunately there were no immortals attacking them just then, or there were no animals, rabid and savaging, and, of course it wasn't at night. 

Willow wasn't that disappointed, because she had the sneaking suspicion that their skills would have to be used all too soon. 

When they returned the bows and other weapons, they went back over to the riding ring. There, two adults met them. 'Uh-oh', the stable hands thought in unison. They had interrupted lessons for the nobles, and they all wondered what would happen to Rachel Stonecutter's children. 

"Hello. You three must be the cause of all the commotion. See Hakuin, this is why I don't want us to leave the boys to their exercises alone." an older woman told her counterpart. She looked extremely fit, all muscle and grace. Her hair was gray and curls, cropped short. The other was a lengthy Yamani, with dancing eyes, button nose and full lips. His hair was raven and tresses, and he stroked the nose of Fall. 

"Fine, fine Eda. You were right, I was wrong, the whole Shang Alliance shall bow to you." He retorted. "You girl—what is his name?" he asked about Fall. 

"Falcons Fall. He looks like a horse I saw when we were in Tyra, where my mother fought her last fight." 

"And who was your mother, little one?" asked the woman.

"Rachel Stonecutter, ma'am," all three replied.

"The Falcon? Rachel had kids?" the woman asked the man. He slid off the fence and stared blanking into space. "Hakuin? _Hakuin?_" She shook him. She still stood, entranced by his thoughts. 

The woman he had called Eda looked at them, her eyes pleading. Willow took it upon herself to help. "Fall!" she called him to attention, and then she whistled. He reared and gave an earsplitting whinny. 

The man Hakuin jerked back, startled by the sudden excitement. 

"Sir, are you ok?" River asked.

"Um, yea…who did you say your mother was?" He wrung his hands.

            "Rachel Stonecutter. She was the Shang Falcon."

            "She was one of my students, in your year, right Hakuin?" the woman asked, hitting the shoulder of the man. He nodded. "Hello dears. I am Eda Bell of the Shang, the Wildcat to be exact. This mute is Hakuin Seastone, the Shang Horse. We both knew your mother. She died, what was it?, ten years ago, in Tyra, wasn't it?"

            "Um, eleven years next Midsummer. Yes ma'am, in Tyra. She left and about two weeks later, we received a carrier bird from her with a death note. She knew she wasn't going to make it out of the battle alive, and sent a note to tell us goodbye." Willow explained, feeling the wetness of tears on her cheeks. Why was she crying? She shed her tears over her barely-known mother years ago. And for goodness sake—she was fifteen, far too old to be carrying on like this!

            Despite this, it gave her comfort to know that behind her, her brothers were sniffling. Ema sidled up on Rivers left and grabbed his hand. The man, Hakuin, opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, and held out his hand as if he was going to wipe away a tear off her face, but he speedily composed himself and cleared his throat. 

            "Don't feel sad, young ones. Your mother, Rachel, knew what she got herself into when she took Falcon rank. We all know that we may not live to see our children grow up and have their own. Heck, some of us don't live to have children! Rachel was very blessed." He gazed into Willow's violet eyes, his dark ones kind. "Anyway," he looked away at her siblings, then the ground, "we wanted to talk about your fighting skills. Now that we know who your mother is, it explains a lot, though your fencing technique is not quite Shang method."

            "Well, Sir, that is because Mother only started to teach us fencing before she was called to aid the Tyran king. We were only five and a half, and I guess Mother thought, before she left, that we'd have time when she got back. Only she never got to return. Our guardian, Sari al Hibenh, only we called her Grandam, she taught us most of our sword craft, along with a few other tools that have proven to be useful." River answered.

            "Such as?" the woman, no, Eda, asked. River looked to see if she was mocking him, but her eyes were serious, as well as curious.

            "Well, the language of the Banjiku tribes people, for one. She also taught us about birds, predator kinds mostly, but the occasional robin or sparrow, or even colorful southern finch could worm its way into a lesson." 

            "I see…well, children, if it's ok with you, we would like to instruct you in the fighting arts, in your free time. I understand that you work in the stables?" they nodded their heads. "Good, then I can talk to Stefan. He owes me a favor, what after getting a Bazhir merchant to give him a better deal on some horses, particularly wild stallion, untamed and unbreakable, or so he claimed. I see the merchant was wrong, but he also seemed a bit crazy, what with calling me Gary and asking how my sick mother was and if I thought sending her a pinecone covered in clay and baked in a cave in the Desert with seventeen rattlesnakes might be of any use to her. Insane like a madman, he was…" Hakuin fell into a memory, only to be awakened by Eda elbowing him in the ribs. 

            "He's not always like this—well, actually, yes, he is just like this. Ignore me." Eda winked; Willow grinned. 

            "Well, I will talk to Stefan about this, if you wish and contact you by next Sunsday?" Eda offered. They nodded vigorously. They loved the way their mother taught, using repetition to get a lesson to stick, and stick well. Mayhap these Shang warriors taught the same way. And to learn more fighting! WOW! What a day…

            Willow led the way back to the stables, leading Fall. She put him away, and for the first time in years, they returned to their rooms to talk about their mother.

Sheesh! I had no idea how long that would take me! Anyway- please have patience. I know that the plot seems to be nonexistent, but I will get to more of it in the next chapter. Promise! A lot of new characters right? I know…  Well, I'm sorry it ended abruptly like it did, but I am about to fall asleep and really wanna post, so bear with me people, bear with me. Perhaps, with a LOT of luck, I can fashion another chapter out of my jumbled ideas and get it to you by the start of next semester, but don't hold your breath. I say this not to be mean, I just don't want you to gets your hopes too high, ok? Thanx…

Reviews- Thanks so much guys! You have no idea how mush better I feel after posting a few days with no response to suddenly have a review! It lifts my soul, it does! 

Yumi- that has got to be the sweetest thing ANYONE has ever said to me, so next chapter, and this one (I feel generous) are dedicated to you! THANX!

Slytherin Chick- Wow, thank you. I feel loved today…

Night-'n'-Day- Gracias! You guys are awesome.

Raquel- of course, this goes without saying, but thank you. I am gonna call you when i get the chance, but I think you may be out of town now, so I am gonna stop talking to you since you can't read it!

Lovely Little Muse- Thank you very much! 

The Dark Lady- I'll try! She is very slippery though…I don't know what I got myself into when I created her. Thanx for the review!

Beta reader? Anyone interested? Anyone? Please?? (crickets) ok guys, I am asking to better the reading experience for others! Throw me a frickin' bone here! (please?????)

Well, I'll try ververyveryveryvery hard to post and thanx so much!!


	9. The Grand Progress

Disclaimer: I own no Tamora Pierce characters, plots, or settings. I own a few characters that I came up with all on my lonesome…..mine….precious……wait! I don't own that either. Well, thanx!

Here I go!

Chapter Nine: The Grand Progress

"River?" He opened his eyes. The sweet voice he'd heard was that of Ema--his Ema. She looked upset.

River glanced outside; it was still dark. "Ema…what's wrong?" he yawned. She grabbed his hands and sat up, and then she plopped down on his feet. 

"I…it…we need to talk," she stated, quietly as to not disturb the other tow still dead asleep.

"Why? What's wrong?" He rubbed his eyes.

"Not here." She pulled him out of bed, but blushed and turned away when she discovered that he slept with no clothes, save for a loincloth. 

He mumbled a quiet, "Sorry." 

She waited for a few minutes, and turned back around when he placed a hand on her shoulder.

She led a half-dressed River, bearing breeches and holding a shirt in his hands. She walked him through the maze of passageways, until she stopped in font of a small room. Ema whipped out a key from a hidden pocket and placed it in the hole in the knob. The door swung open and permitted them into a tiny bedroom River had never seen before. When he noticed a miniature portrait of a woman and a child, he noted that the child looked a lot like Ema, and the woman must be her mother. This was Ema's room.

"We need to talk, "Ema repeated.

"You said that. Ema what's the matter?" He rubbed her shoulder. She pulled away and leaned on the mantle. He walked to her and she turned to face him, cheeks wet with tears. He hugged her.

"Whatever it is, tell me. You know you can trust me."

"I've only known you four months, but I feel like I've known you my whole life. There's something I need to tell you, but I can't seem to find the words…" She moved to sit on a trunk at the foot of her minute bed, holding herself to hide her trembling from his ever-watchful eyes. 

He knew he could read her mind, and was tempted to. He resolved to read the surface, but swore he would never do this again. She was just so flustered.

'_She was confused and upset. Why did this have to happen? Would she have to leave? A baby changed everything…'_

His eyes snapped open and he wiped the sweat off his brow. He was panting, as if he had been working in the practice yard for hours with the crazy Shang Masters.

They gazed into each other's eyes and saw what both frightened and warmed them.

Wind woke to find River gone. Ema wasn't here either. It was about an hour and a half before sunrise, so they had to be in the courts in a quarter of an hour. That didn't leave them much time. "Willow! Get up! River's not here, Ema's not here, and we have to _go_." He pushed her out of the large bed. She hit the floor, moaned, and rolled over, back into dreamland. He kicked her, she grunted, and then rolled back over, away from him. He leaned down and whispered in her ear. "_Odoofi hueds zo dytenhy. Juselaft fusym jerpehn." _She sat bolt upright, scrambled to get free of the sheets, and got dresses in record time. 

'Maren threats always did work with her,' Wind thought to himself as he swept about the room, searching for his missing quiver and lacing his shirt. "What happened to them?" he panted, counting the arrows with his fingers in the quiver on his back. Thirteen. Well, he could always make more. Willow had about the same as he did, so it was ok.

"Like I know?" his grumpy sister retorted. She was not a morning person. 

"Well, if he misses lessons, I won't feel sorry for him, not after yesterday." Yesterday, River had been very distant and grouchy. He wouldn't talk to anyone but Ema and he cursed at them when they asked.

Willow grinned agreement. She was very displeased with him at the moment. The masters had asked her and her oldest brother to have a mock duel to see where they stood. They used blunted practice swords and he rubbed his nose in her weakness and his strong point by giving her a deep gash in her side, almost breaking a rib. He had humiliated her, and hurt her, in front of some of the squires and pages she had just earned the respect of--and he didn't even care! He just gloated his victory for a few minutes, then went back to giving her the silent treatment. If he did miss lessons, she hoped he would get huge amounts of chores or extra lessons with running. He hated running, especially cross-country. He just didn't have great stamina for that kind of thing.

Well, um, right. Back to them. Wind and Willow decided to grab a quick breakfast from their favorite cook, if Willow would hurry up, of course. They were, however off to Helena's, their favorite cooks, soon enough. She reminded them of Miztoo, and she always would have a bite for them, no matter how busy. They ran through the corridors, getting lost only once, and finally stopped in front of a great fireplace where a plump woman sat on a stool, mixing some creamy substance in a clay bowl. 

"Good morning'! How are ye wee tykes this day?" she asked them, smiled plastered on her round face, flour streaked on her dress and apron, even in her red curls cascading down her back, restrained by a tie.

"Running late Helena. Can we grab a turnover or something?" Wind panted.

"Surely can. Where is ye third party? Off with his wee lass, Miss Ema?" She grinned as she poked through a cupboard, grabbing a few pastries filled with apples and honey. The curvy woman turned to the metal rack in the fireplace and pulled out three warm turnovers, filled with bacon, eggs, and cheese. 

"We aren't quite sure. We awoke a few minutes ago to find both missing. I hope he gets punishment work from the Shang Masters." Willow bitterly replied. She helped Helena to place them in a small basket she let them use when they were on the run. 

The motherly cook wrapped the food in a clean rag to help keep them warm and tutted her. "Now Willow dear, is tha' any way t' speak of yer own kin? Ye can't still be sore at 'im? He was jus' 'aving a bad day that's all."

"How did you know about that Helena?" Wind asked, curiosity getting the better of him, despite the fact that they need to be there in five minutes. 

"News travels fas' in this palace," she smiled. "Plus Miss Ema came t' see me las' night, she did. Upse' and distraugh' she was, but… well, listen t' me. Talkin' when ye need t' get goin' Well, go, on--scoot!" She shooed them out of her kitchen. 

Not for the first time did Willow notice something familiar about the twinkle in Helena's eyes, but she just couldn't seem to place it. That's all she was able to think about the whole way to the stables. Wind noticed her quiet, and he joined her, for once staying silent for more than two minutes. It was impressive.

"You're flirting with tardiness students," Eda said, amusement crinkling the corners of her eyes. The Horse stared at the ground, smiling and trying to hide it.

"Sorry, Lady. We only woke about fifteen minutes ago. And no," Willow gasped, having run from Helena's kitchen, eating on the way, "we don't know what has become of our wayward brother." The Shangs smiled, knowing each of their personalities by now, having worked with them for about three weeks, going over the basics.

"Still angry with him, are we?" Hakuin laughed. The teenagers grumbled. He tossed a staff Willow's way and her reflexes shot out, catching it just in time, right before it could smack her on the nose. "By the end of our session, you'll just have to be too exhausted to think about him, now won't you?" he evilly asked, planning to work them as all Shang students worked. 

They moaned in unison. "Now that's what I like to hear!" Eda smiled happily, knowing how they felt after yesterday, and how they would feel tomorrow. They were using a different method than they could use with the pages and squires. These were not trying for Knighthood; they only wished to learn more and be critiqued for the fighting they already knew. Rachel did well by them, but she died when they were so young, and there were gaps in their learning. Her and Hakuin would fill the gaps, and add more onto their knowledge. They could also do this Shang-style, stressing the Shang tactics and strategy without teaching them what this new Training Master, Padraig haMinch, told them to school them in. The boys had to get the idealism smacked out of them before anything else. Eda wanted these three to be more idealistic. The Federation of Shang decreed a new way of teaching, and Eda wanted to educate the triplets in that manner. 

"Let us get to work. We only have to a half hour after sunrise." Hakuin said, being the voice of reason. "Now, young chicks, the staff… wait. Are those your weapons?" He just remembered they were to examine the weapons of the children. They had mentioned having bows and daggers, but the integrity of them would have to be determined by examination. 

"Yes sir. River has nine daggers too. Here, I stuck them on me." Willow started to unbuckle the straps on the dagger holders and sheaths. Wind had to look twice to realize what she did. That's why she took so long…

She handed everything to the waiting hands of the Shang Horse. Wind gave Eda the bows and quivers, full of arrows they made themselves. 

"So why did River take up daggers? You two have bows, but he uses these knives." Hakuin asked, giving the blades a once-over. 

"Uh--Well, River was having a hard time with the bow, so Mother tried him out on the glaive, but we were too small. She attempted the sling, but since we all knew that since we were three, it was useless to re-teach it. So it left daggers. Mind, we all learned it, but River learned more and is like liquid lightning with them. This was when we were four and a half. At three, we knew the sling, small staff, and were starting hand-to-hand. We worked everyday, up until her death. Even then, Grandam had us work every opportunity we got, and she continued our lessons, mostly with the sword, but with River and his daggers and our archery got better with her, mostly as we got older and stronger." The Horse and Wildcat nodded their heads, further looking at their weapons. 

"I see. Well, young chicks, these are the best money can buy, as I suspected Rachel would get nothing else for any child of hers. She adored the Raven Armory, and would buy nothing else for herself. If I were you, I wouldn't let these pretties out of my sight." He handed Willow back the daggers, and she was puzzled with what to do with them. They were River's and fit him better, so she finally decided to place them near the edge of the courts, within eyesight, but out of the way. Wind put their bows in the same place. 

Eda asked, when they returned, "You two fletch your own arrows?" They nodded. "You do good work. If all else fails, become fletchers. You'll make a fortune." She smiled at them, and they looked away, awed by the rare compliment. "But, younglings, we've got a lot of work to do. Shall we?" 

The Masters ushered them towards a rack of staffs and other long handled weapons: spears, halberds, and another weapon they longed to touch, but didn't know the use of--the glaive. "And so, we start."

And start they did. The Shangs began to instruct them in the use of long handled weapons, most of which they were at least familiar with, and at least one they didn't know. As they wearily walked away, almost too anxious to muck stalls, they heard Hakuin call to them, saying that before long- who knows? - maybe they can start on the lance. The laughed and scampered off knowing that such foolishness was a LONG way off.

It wasn't until the stalls were three-quarters finished being cleaned, half the horses were groomed, Willow was well into the exercises with Fall, and Midday was about half an hour past that River came running into the stables to find most of his chores done and none of the stable hands even looking at him. Stefan placed a hand on his shoulder startling him.

"Ye know, when ye walk into work _this_ late, I hav' t' wonder what ye were doin' tha' was so damandin' of yer time." 

River turned around, eyes clenched shut, and opened them to a Stefan who looked far from amused. "First off, I wanna say that-" he started.

"Save it. Jus' say where ye were, and tha' it will never happen again, an' we'll be done with the whole blasted thing."

"I was attending to important personal matters that came up at the last minute and it shall NEVER happen again." By the tone in his voice, Stefan could tell it was true. He could also sense that the matter discussed was truly personal and that River would stand by his privacy. Stefan couldn't pay the boy to reveal anything else about his whereabouts, and he knew it.

"Good. Now, get t' work. Ye can finish the rest of the stalls and groomin'. Your brother and sister were kind enough to do most of it fer ye, until I asked them to do their chores and save the rest fer ye. I also have some carpentry left to be done that I know ye will enjoy." River, who hated carpentry (he hit his hand as much as the nails) sighed, but wordlessly grabbed a shovel and set to work. 

Stefan looked up. "An' ye five, yes I know ye're there, get back to yer chores too. I called no break time." He chuckled and strolled down to the rider stables, going to ask Sarge, the second in command down there, if his assistance was required with some of the less attendant trainees. 

The five teenagers in the loft who so noticeably eavesdropped, looked at one another, snickered, then got back to their various tasks, whether it was pitching fresh hay, mending tack, working horses, training a brutish paint, or just refilling troughs. 

"Willow!" She turned to the source of the noise. Bowen. Her heart began to pick up the pace as he walked near her, as it had been doing _every_ time they were near one another. Unknown to her, his heart began to match her hearts pace, as it had been doing _every_ time they were near one another. "Father said it's time t' pen the beast an' come inside. He 'as an announcement." He held the horse steady as she dismounted, well, jumped off really. As Bowen wasn't paying attention to him, only his Girl, Fall decided to show Bowen the error of his ways. He turned, fast as a lightning bolt, and clamped his jaws on the stable hand's arm, and unfortunately for Bowen, on parts that had no sleeve to help protect it. 

"Fall! None of that nonsense. Remember what we talked about, you, me and the Wildmage? None of your tricks or no more oats at night. We stroke a deal- hold up your end of it!" Willow stared the horse in the eye, scolding it like a person, not the animal that it was. Surprisingly the stallion snorted and let go, much to Bowen's delight. 

Bowen gratefully gazed into her violet eyes, until he saw that she was mirroring his stare. They broke the eye contact, waiting for the other to say something and break the awkward silence. Willow finally took the initiative to speak. "So what did Stefan call a meeting for, do you know?" she asked cautiously choosing her words, careful to not look away from Falls bridal. She began to walk to his stall.

"I dunno. Mayhaps he wants to reveal wha' 'as made 'im so secretive lately." Bowen guessed. 

"So you've had a secretive one in your family too?" Willow chortled.

"Yes. 'E's been off with the Riders or visiting my aunt, a cook in the kitchens 'ere, or 'e jus' tells me t' be quiet and leave 'im alone." He sighed. "'e's never been this way before, not tha' I remember." 

Willow digested this. "Wait. You've an aunt in the kitchens? What's her name?" Bowen looked at her strangely. What would make her ask that?

"Helena. Helena Groomsman, fer all she's a cook. Never married, bu' 'as come close t' it." He glanced at her expectantly. "Does tha' suit yer fancy Little Miss Carthak? Young Shang Mistress?" He teased her, but in a different way than he normally did. He had never mentioned her Shang skills or her Carthaki past before. 

"Thank you, but I could have done without the sarcasm or disdain." she smirked. By then they had reached Falls manger. Willow began to remove Falls tack, bridal and everything because she never had the heart to leave it on when he had cuts from chewing on the bit. Bowen could hardly sit idle while the girl he loved was working.

Loved. Yes, he knew how it sounded. But he couldn't ignore what his heart kept screaming at him. He loved her. However, now he never knew want to do, or say while they were together. He even feared to look at her, scared his traitor eyes would give something away. Little did he know she was going over the exact same thoughts in her head.

"Thank you…" she gazed up into his jade eyes unaware of the degree of affection showing in her own. Bowen, however, did and it frightened him. 

"Uh- Father will be expectin' us. Lets go." he ushered fall into his stall, locked the door, not mindful to the fact that he's never locked in anymore, but did it all the same, and then he rushed off to Stefan's workbench.

She followed, a few steps behind, completely bewildered. When she arrived, she saw five stable hands arranged on hay barrels, over-turned water buckets, or stools. Brock even sat on the floor, long, gangly limbs sprawled left and right. Stefan was propped against his bench, and the teenagers were joking and laughing, having a grand time. As she found a seat by Wind, who was regaling Brock with a story a Bazhir chieftain told them once, Stefan cleared his throat and the talking stopped. 

"Well, now, tha's all of ye? Yes? Ok then. I 'ave been told t' inform ye tha' another Grand Progress shall be 'eld soon, t' reintroduce the Princess Shinkokami t' the realm, after the marrige tha' was 'eld those weeks ago. WE will be busy fer a few weeks gettin' things ready, and fer a week or two after t' do major repairs an' the like, bu' after we're free fer four months." He let the news settle before he went on. "Durin' this free time I'll be gone, visitin' my mother. I will leave, uh, Bowen in charge, with Kit t' assist 'im." Kit smiled. Finally! A good excuse to get Bowen alone, besides the fact that she "needed his help grooming Nightengale." "Well, does anyone 'ave any questions?" they stared, bewildered. Leaving? Free time? What were these? 

Eventually, they got past the initial shock and they grinned, looking to one another, huge smilies plastered on their faces. Stefan wondered what he started.

"Helena! Wha' 'ave I done?" Stefan sighed to his sister. She grinned at her older brother, kindnees overflowing over her entire person. She was one of those people who couldn't help but be nice. 

"Brother Dear, ye 'ad t' make a 'ard choice. Bowen's a big boy. An' I will be looking' in on 'im, makin' sure 'e behaves 'imself." 

"Bu' I left the entire Royal Stables in the 'ands of a fifteen year old. Goddess knows wha' trouble 'e'll find. And ye know Bowen--ye know 'ow 'e can be!" 

"Yes. 'Im an' 'is stubborn father. Ye are both the same, an' 'e cares jus' as much about them horses as ye do. 'E'll do jus' fine, and ye know it. Sit down an' 'ave sweet." She handed a pastry to her pacing brother. He snatched it and tore into the crust, surprised to find chocolate stuffed within. 

"I know, I know. It's jus'… do ye know my three newest workers? The triplets Willow, Wind, an' River?"

"Yes, as a matter of fac'. They drop by almost everyday. Very sweet, all three." She seemed shocked that her brother didn't know they knew her.

"I 'ave reason t' believe, well…I think me Bowen is in love with the girl." Helena was taken aback.

"Me Bowen?" she smiled broadly. "'Bout time! I was afeared 'ed never find 'appiness wiv anyone, though 'e took 'is sweet time wiv it." (A/N: writing accents is getting tricky!)

"Wha'? Yer ok wiv this?" 

"Sure." 

"Bu'…this is no' good."

"Why do ye say tha'? Do ye believe 'er t' share 'is crush?" she gazed expectantly at her older brother, daring him to say Bowen is too young and not mature enough. If anything, Bowen was more mature than his father was at his age, what with no mother and working since the age of five.

"This is no crush Helena. I think 'e's in love wiv 'er. An' I can't tell ye how she feels. I don't understan' tha' girl. I don' understan' me son, either, fer tha' matter…"

"Well, I'll talk t' 'im, and t' Willow. I'll let ye know when ye return from Port Caynn. Mother moved there, did she tell ye?" 

"Yes…don' change the subject'! Bu' ye will talk t' them? Ge' he whole story?" 

"Yes Stefan, now calm down. Tha' pastery'll ge' cold ye know." He looked at her, sneered, and practically inhaled the chocolate filled snack. "Charmin'. Ye're a real find, ye know tha'?" She sourly commented at her sibling. "It'll be fine. Ye 'ave two weeks t' get everythin' in order, and then, ye can go t' Mother without a care in the world, without a grievance in yer 'eart." She smiled sweetly at her brother, got up, and hugged him. "Ye need t' calm down." He looked at her round face, and somehow he felt a bit better. 

"Ye're right, bu'… I jus' can't 'elp bu' worry."

The next three weeks were spent preparing the Palace steeds for the long trip around the Realm. There was tack to mend, shoes to change, much grooming to be done and bathes to give. They had to choose mounts suitable for the Ladies to ride and good travelers for the knights. The stronger horses were needed as pack bearers and cart pullers. The mounts owned by knights, nobles, and Royalty had to be readied to travel and be shown off to foreign dignitaries. The ambassadors from Carthak were in Tyra and planned to visit the Progress when it reached the area. The Copper Island monarchs would be around Port Legann to discuss things about fishing rights. The Yamani Representitves would come to the Mountain Lords in Tortall, helping with raiders and bandits, and they too would see the Royal Delegation roaming the country to see its marvels. 

The Progress set off one Moonsday morning (a/n: Monday), early into Wolf Moon this time, not planning to return until Barley. (January; November.) The stable hands labored on the Stable building, covered in snow and slush, not enjoying themselves at all. The major repairs were the patching of a leaky roof, caulking of wook cracks, and restocking hay, oats, carrots, and apples. The leather strips used for repairing busted tack had to be restocked as well, along with the extra buckles and tools required for fixing these things. One and half weeks, well into Wolf moon, during the time they call Wolf Winter, after the Progress left court, the repairs were done, around the stables at least. It was time for Stefan to be off to Port Caynn. 

"Ye behave yerselves now. I don't wan' me sis' givin' me bad repor'. Tha' will ruin me whole vacation." He looked at all their faces, seeing an innocence that didn't belong. "Wha' 'ave I done?" he looked up, as if waiting for Mithros to answer. 

"Da, calm down, it'll be fine." He helped his father to a patient gelding, known for his speed and endurance. Stefan scowled.

"Tha' is exactly wha' yer aunt said. I still can't believe it." He mounted the bay, a sturdy cob named Bear, arranging the riengs and his saddlebags, taking in reassurance from the easiness Bear felt, hoping to relax his hostler and rider. "Well, remember the chores ye 'ave everyday with rest of the 'orses. And Willow-Falls exercises. I don't trus' nobody b' ye t' do them." she smiled reassuringly, knowing everything would run smooth. "Jus' don't do anythin' I wouldn't." He nudged Bear into a trot and rode into the city, looking back at the six teenagers, who grinning mischievously at one another, with an uneasy mind. 

It was three days into the free time for the stable hands. The pages hadn't left yet, so the Shang Masters stayed as well, meaning morning practices for the triplets. Their birthday occurred on that day, and for a special treat, they didn't have normal lessons--the Shangs made them twice as long. At two hours after sunrise, the Shang dimissed the triplets, and turned all of their attention to the pages, who by the way looked on at the legthened lesseon with new awe and respect, not at all jealous of the fact that they got out early. 

They attended their own lessons without complaint after seeing that display of stamina and endurance for whatever the Masters doled out. 

"I am gonna feel just that for a week." Willow gently laid herself onto a bale of hay. "My back is a solid bruise. And of course the whole thing of the gashes from that glaive. I think you lamost took a finger off Wind." She told her brother, who lay on the floor, unmoving, on her stomach, just as her. 

"Well, sister dear," he groaned into the dirt, "you tried to take my whole hand, so I think the exchange was fair."

"Oh yea…" she giggled. "That was a neat duel though, wasn't it?" 

"Oh yes- just wonderous. Now if you excuse me, I would like to die in peace." He rolled onto his back, staring into space. 

Willow laughed, wincing as she felt the stabbing pain of what could only be a cracked rib from a staff into her chest. "Ouch." she mumbled. Suddely, the pain that had been quick in coming, left, and a coolness replaced it. She looked for the source. Bowen sat at her feet, eyes closed and sweat pouring down, dripping off his chin. "What-" she started, but was silenced when he placed a finger to her lips. 

"Shush." he said. She did, and sat still, feeling the soreness of her muscles leave, along with her bloody wounds close and her throbbing hands feel the coolness as well. When he was done, he near collapsed, bracing himself on her outstretched hands. She sat and let him put his weight on her. 

"Your gift doesn't have the strength to heal! Why did you do that?" she demanded, trying to sound mean, but only managing concerned. She was terrified that he'd poured so much strength into healing her. "I could have survived with the pain. I'm no stranger to it, you know."

"But-" he started, but couldn't finish, as he was too tired. 

"You lay here. I'll be back. **Don't move.**" The last words were more a command then a request. She bolted to the loft, amazed at how much better she felt. Searching for his bed took longer than she thought, mostly because she was in a hurry. If she hadn't been rushed, she would have been able to go straight there. Eventually, after what seemed like forever, she found it, and grabbed his blanket and feather pillow. She jumped from the loft and ran the entire length of the stable to get back to where he lied. She covered him gently, finding him already asleep. River was nearbly, after coming back from lesson late, doing his last bit of punishment work. 

"What happened to him?" he whispered, pulling Willow off to the side. She gazed at the weary hostler, worry in every line of her body. 

"He exhausted himself. He wanted to heal me--his gift doesn't heal! He tapped his life force. He could have died!" She started pacing. 

"Well, you can hardly expect him to sit by when the girl he-" River started to blurt out, but Wind caught him. 

"W…works with is in pain." He stumbled around, trying to stand, and tripped his was towards them after he got to his sore feet. 

"I was fine! You guys were in worse shape than I was!" She threw her arms into the air, exasperated.

"Hey, hey! We weren't that bad off!" Wind tried to defend what was left of his dignity. She ignored him, attention flying back to Bowen when he groaned and turned over onto his back. 

"Willow?" he rasped, voice dry for some, odd reason. She rushed to his side. "Sorry about all this." 

"Sorry? You healed me!" she laughed, tears threatening to fall down her cheeks. "Why did you do it, Bowen? Why?" 

"Why?" he repeated. "Because…because I lo-" She waited to hear what she had wanted for so long, praying that he would, eyes closed, goofy smile plastered on her face. But he stopped and all was silent. She opened her eyes and was shocked.

He passed out. 

Ok- I don't know why, but I am stopping there, on the break. I hadn't planned to have him faint, but since I did that at the doctors office (allergy to medication I think) I figured I'd work it in. To, you know, incorporate a touch of my life. Well, I want to thank you for reading, and I know the plot doesn't seem to be evident but it's there. This is just the start of all the good stuff. Well, I hope you enjoyed and I'll be back as soon as I can, but everything with school restarting may delay me. Thanx…


	10. Female Bonding

Hello Again! I am back, with another update. This is my sappy attempt at fluff. Normally I wouldn't even try, but it was, unfortunately, necessary for the plot lines I had in mind. Well, enjoy reading, and please review when you are done. Thanx…

Chapter 10: (double digits baby!!!)

Female Bonding

"But-" 

"I've had it up to here with you Narmer." growled the woman in black, motioning to her sergeant with her hands, completely fed up with him and his mistakes. "This will not do. Not at all. I've discussed it with the Circle, and with Him, and they decided that we can't have any more _slipups. _We…we're letting you go." she stared at the table, not wanting to see the horror on his face. 

She snapped, and two other men came up behind him, grabbing his arms and started to drag him away. He fought, kicking and screaming. As soon as they got out the door, he broke away, and they of course they gave chase. She could hear Narmer running and shouting for anyone to come to his aid. She listened, grimacing as she heard them wrestle him to the ground, and his screams pierce the night. 

'Shame too. He was really a good sergeant.' she sighed. 'But I knew this was coming. At least now I can bring in the new man.' Just as she thought that, a large shape stepped into the door, filling the frame and blocking all light from outside. 

"Good. You're here." He growled in response. "You know what is expected of you, right?" He growled again. "Your troops are behind this building. We call it Headquarters. I am the only one allowed in here unless I bring you in. Understand?" He growled yet again. "Good, now go around and I'll be there to introduce you to your subordinates in a moment. I just have to take care of a little issue." She saw his huge, block-like head nod and his form move from the door. Light refilled the small, roughly built room. 

'This will be a good thing.' she thought, trying to cheer herself up and to drown out Narmer's screams which echoed in her mind over and over. 'Now the last part of all of this shall be done a few days time. Then He'll be happy, They'll be happy, and I can _go home._' She tiredly rubbed her face and neck, stood up, wincing at achy joints, a product of old age, and searched for the trapdoor to the Room. After she found it, and started descending down into the dark hole, she looked around the room and shook her head, more homesick then than any other time she had been in the hell-hole country that Tortall was. 

Not long after Bowen fainted, River had gathered all of the stable hands around where he lay, and they all looked to Kit as the second in command while Stefan was away. Unfortunately, all they could do was wait until he came to, as there was nothing else, even if they could get a healer down there. He would have to sleep, and then rest. That's all anyone could do. Even worse was the fact that they couldn't move him, and someone would have to stay with him. Everyone decided to take shifts, like sentries, to stay awake while he slept. Kit had the first shift, from then until the Midnight watch was called. Willow said she'd take the next, and then, at sunup, Brock would relieve her. 

For the longest time, Kit sat and watched him sleep. After a while she talked to his sleeping form, partly to amuse herself, and also to say some of the things to him that she always wanted to but were too embarrassed to say them while he was awake. 

"I just…never know what to do around you anymore, Bo." she confessed, using the nickname she gave him when they were very young. "I don't know how long I've felt this way, but I know that I feel very strongly." She sighed and kept going, feeling better with every contained word freed at long last. "I'm in love with you Bowen. I think I always was, ever since the day at the pond- you know, when I was in the willow tree and you climbed up and sat with me instead of going swimming with Brock and his brother, remember Connar? Yea, I will always remember how they teased you and called you chicken, but you stayed with me anyway. 

"I never told you, but I am afraid of that pond. When I was little I slipped on a rock and cut the bottom of my foot on it. I just never had the courage to go back in. That's why I always sit out, no matter what you guys say to me. Well, anyway, I just needed to tell you that. You mean so much to me, to everyone actually, and I know you care about us as well, and these stables, so you have to wake up and help me run them. You know the most about this place, what being born here in Corus and working with your Da since forever. I need you here to do this. You can't stay asleep. I love you too much to have you slip into one of those long sleeps. And…I know you have a girl here too. She loves you, I can see it, Stefan can see it, and so can everyone else, except you. You don't realize how she feels, I guess like I do, and I know you feel the same for her. You love her. 

"And I guess since you do feel that way, and your happiness matters more than anything, I hope you both can see what each other has for one another. You and-"

At the moment a figure stepped from the shadows, not being able to listen anymore. 

"Willow! What are you doing? Your shift isn't for another half hour!" Kit was caught completely by surprise, saying some of the most personal thoughts she'd ever had. And the other one person she really didn't want to know these things might have heard it all! Kit could only pray that she didn't. 

"I'm sorry Kit. I…couldn't sleep, so I decided you might want to be relieved a bit early. Plus I felt bad that I was the cause of all this. Nitwit just **had** to heal when his gift doesn't _do_ that…" she mumbled the last bit to herself mostly, but it was loud enough for Kit to hear. Unbeknownst to Kit, however, Willow also heard some things intended for deaf ears. The young Shang-in-Training could no longer look her fellow hostler in the face, as she was too embarrassed. 

"Oh, well, I'm not tired yet, but if you want to join me until the watch calls the Midnight hour, I, uh…would enjoy the company." She tried her best to seem sincere about the offer and she actually managed slightly genuine. Willow smiled at her attempt to be civil when she otherwise would have mumbled profanities and walked away, staring at the ground. She joined her on the hay-strewn floor, sitting tailor style. They had a good ten minutes of silence before Kit said something, not long before Willow would have.

"So, um, how was your day?" She asked, making her companion laugh at the lack of conversing material. 

"Well, all in all, it was ok, I guess…aw who am I kidding? Worse birthday ever, if you don't count the one I spent in a dungeon, held by the Red Legion because I was out after slave curfew, but you know, that hardly counts." She left her cohort speechless, having nothing to say that could match that. Kit just nodded. 

"Are the Shang Masters nice?" she changed the subject. 

"Well, they are kind in the sense that they ask if were ok when we do our exercises. Guess they don't want to have to deal with one of us passing out." She grimly smiled, hoping to lighten the mood. After a few minutes, she pulled her legs up to her chest, as she had started her monthly bleeding again two nights ago, and her stomach ached. 

"Are you ok now?" Kit was actually serious, so Willow told her the truth. "Oh, well, I have a tonic for that, if you would like some. I found it works best when you have to ride and do all kinds of active stuff with pains and cloth pads." Willow was taken aback. Sometimes she forgot that Kit was a girl too, and had to go through all the same stuff she did. The funny part was, Kit had never given it a second thought either, that Willow was a girl and might be in need of a pointer or two on riding with her bleeding. 

"Wow, you know, this is really great of you," Willow called quietly, as Kit rummaged through her packs, which, by chance, were almost right above where they sat. Kit came down with a clay bottle in one hand, and a small jar in another. 

"It's no big thing. I always keep some around, ever since I started. It comes in handy. Bowen's aunt makes it for me, and I go help her around her house with her horse, Starwind. Got a star on his forehead and runs like-"

"the wind." they chorused. 

"I know Helena well." Willow explained when Kit looked confused. "She never mentioned you, I don't think. Of course she didn't mention she was a Groomsman either." she laughed quietly.

"Anyway, you take a spoonful of the tonic at breakfast, and two at dinner. If the cramps really bother you still, rub a bit on your abdomen, right where it hurts most. It will make it feel one hundred percent better, I promise. Here, you take these. I have more upstairs." 

"Golly, thanks. This is super great of you." 

"I am just a super great kinda gal." Kit teased. Their laughter was cut short by a loud tone sounding, and someone called the hour. 

"Well, I guess it's your shift. See you in the morning. Try not to fall asleep." Kit climbed the ladder by Bowens' hay bale, up to her cot. As she lay there in the dim light of her lamp, she could hear the murmurs of Willow to Bowen. A tear ran down her face as she listened to Willow speak as she spoke- as a girl in love.

"Hey Bowen. I'm not going to yell at you again. Sorry about that. You just scared me, is all. I don't know what I would do if I lost you. Your so special to me- to all of us." Kit laughed at how similar that was to her speech. "You have to wake up, you just _have _to. I…need you. I've never felt like this--it's as if I don't say something I'll burst. I, I love you, you know. You have no idea how you have affected me- affected everything about me, how I do things, how I perceive things, and how things affect me. You influenced me in so many ways. I love you, and you just have to wake up. I need you with me, to hold me and tell me to keep going, and tease me when I want to stop. I love you and I need you to be my spirit, like you always have been. I need you to be my life. I need you to love me too." That's when Willow collapsed on his chest, sobbing.

"Ye do know tha' ye're soakin' my shirt," a familiar voice coughed. Willow looked up, completely surprised. Bowen sat up, grimacing at the headache he thought would leave him in his dreams. "Uh- I am never do tha' again."

"Good!" Willow laughed through her tears. He brushed one away and cupped her cheek. She grabbed his hand and smiled, heart swelling with her feelings. 

"If it make ye feel better, I need ye too." She dropped her hands, speechless. "Wha'-ye did no' know? I would 'ave figured yer bigmouth brother River would 'ave told ye long ago! I'll never know how 'e found out either…anyway, I do love ye. I 'ave fer the longest time. Pretty much ever since yer firs' 'hilarious bou' wiv Fall, back when 'e was nameless. Oh, Willow, say something'." He pleaded the silence to end. 

"I…well, uh…You have no idea how much I have wanted you to say that. You are my…"

"Yer wha'?" he laughed.

"My…everything. Just my world, Bowen, my world." At those words, a new found strength flooded her veins and she found the courage to reach up, grab his face in her hands and kiss him. He was so shocked at her sudden boldness that he almost forgot to kiss back. 

But eventually he remembered to grab her shoulders and hold her in his arms. She just melted into them. 

Kit, listening up above, realized what was going on in the silence, and fell into quiet sniffles. She did, however, awaken Brock nearby. He gazed down between the rafters by his cot to see what upset her. That was when he saw what both surprised and pained him. He had known about Willows feelings, and he had suspicions about Bowen, but to see them like that was a huge shock. 

They parted, but their eyes never left one another. I can't really tell you how long they stayed that way, but it seems that the time before Willow had to switch with Brock came all too quickly. False dawn shown gray and the nightingales were winding down. The lark was beginning to make itself heard, and the sun finally peaked on the distant horizon.

"I guess my time is almost up. Brock will be awake soon and then, I'll have to go work." Willow sighed, devastated that she had to leave him. She could tell that concentration would be difficult. And bad concentration while working on a horse like Fall would most likely end in a concussion, or worse. 

All well. Some things were inevitable. Anyway, they shared one last embrace, only separating when Brock started his decent down the ladder. "How are you two doing this morning? Feeling better now, Bowen? You were looking a bit pale for a while there, you know." Brock joked, sick to his stomach. 

Bowen smiled slyly and quickly looked at Willow. "I am doin' better, thanks. I do feel a bit 'ungry, though." 

"I'll grab you something from your aunts'. I'm going there now." Willow hurriedly said, walking away, tripping over her own feet as she called over her shoulder.

"That's is one odd girl," Brock mused, watching Willow stumble on a feed pale. "One odd, beautiful girl." Bowen nodded slowly, but quickly shook his head.

"She's well enough," he lied, thinking at the same time 'She's the most perfec' girl, next t' the Goddess 'erself.'

"So, tell me, why did you run yourself down, exhaust yourself, like that? You and I both know that you _can't _heal. The only other time you did that, remember when Connar got shot by accident with a crossbow, you fainted directly afterwards and didn't wake up until two days later. If you do this again, the gods will _punish_ you. You can't wield a Gift you weren't given!" Brock scolded, waiting for an answer. "Well? Tell me!"

"I couldn't lay by when she was in pain like that."

"But you could when River and Wind were in the same state. You were treating her like a girl, doing exactly what River said will earn you many scars!" 

"But I won't. She knows why I did it, an' she doesn't think of it as ye do. We 'ave an understandin'," Bowen vaguely responded. 

"Horse shit! Your such a liar Bowen! I know you. I know how you feel about her, and so does she! And…And I know how she feels about you. This will only end in heartache--most likely hers, and I cannot have that!"

"We both know tha'! But yer wrong. I would never 'urt 'er! Never in-"

"Oh hush it! I have been talking to Wind. Do you know what your beloved plans to do this spring? She and her brothers will go with the Shang to train in Galla. She's leaving. Who knows when she'll be back." Bowen said nothing. This was a newsflash for him. Why would she go? Why did she keep it secret? "Oh wait, River told me not to say anything--to anyone. I'm gonna lose my hand for that." Brock added, mumbling mostly to himself, but Bowen didn't hear. He was crushed.

"And, Helena, I just don't know what to do! I mean, I think Brock knows, Kit most definitely knows, I believe Stefan has his suspicions. This could get really bad, pretty quick." 

"'ow do ye mean? Didn't ye say ye share feelin's? It should be fine." 

"But we're _leaving_. We'll set off as soon as the pages leave and join the Progress. That gives us about three, maybe four moons. Even if anything…happened, we would have to end it soon enough anyway. This really…well, it's just not fair!"

Helena sighed and summoned her over to sit next to her. Willow plopped by her feet and laid her head on the older woman's knee. Helena rubbed her hands through the girls curls, combing them with her fingers, a lot like a mother would. "Sweetlin', love's rarely fair. Trus' me. I wish I could tell ye tha' everythin's gonna be alrigh', bu' ye an' I both know tha' it may not. This feelin' of total distress and confusion, it'll be passin', I can promise ye tha'. Soon ye'll be so wrapped up wiv yer feelin's fer him, ye'll hardly worry 'bout anythin' else, I swear t' ye." Willow looked up into her genuine face, full of kindness and wisdom of these kinds of things.

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you." she stood and trudged out of the kitchen, letting Helena get back to work. 

'Poor lovesick child. I need t' speak wiv me nephew. See 'ow 'w sees this. Does 'e see a future?' she thought, stirring the huge pot of stew. Well, to say the least, she didn't have to wait long to find out, as her darling nephew was on his was just then, knowing that Willow would forget to grab him a bite, just as she had done.

"Aunt? Are ye 'ere?" he called from around the corner, supporting himself on the wall, as his strength had yet to fully return.

"Right 'ere, Laddy. Wha' ails ye?" 

She helped him to sit down while he told her, "Weakness, Aunt. I tried t' 'eal again. 'ave ye any of yer brews tha' may 'elp t' get my strength back?" She thought for a second, and then snapped. She turned and rummaged through a cupboard to reach a jar, way in the back. 

"I've been savin' this since the las' time ye did sommat foolish like this. Ye drained yerself of yer Wild Magic, the kind ye get from yer Da, tryin' t' save a 'orse tha' gave a breech birth. The poor thing still died, an' ye almost joined 'er--remember? This will give ye back yer physical strength, until yer magic reserves get restored. Then ye won't need it, so _don't_ keep takin' it. Ye can be come very needful of it, if yer no' careful, bu' I know ye won't. Jus' come t' me twice today, an' probably tomorrow as well, bu' then ye should be fine.

"As fer matters of the 'eart, I can only say tha' ye two need t' talk abou' everythin', an' make sure ye both can 'andle it when she 'as t' leave. Bu', if ye feel anythin' like Miss Willow feels, yer in fer a great thin' indeed." She smiled at her speechless kin. "Talk to 'er ,Love. Ye need t' work this out, then, whatever 'appens, will 'appen. Jus' be _smart_. Ye an' I know yer Da--If 'e goes berserk over somethin', I will say I 'ad nothin' t' do wiv it." Bowen grinned, albeit rather soberly. He knew she wasn't joking. She had never taken the rap for anyone else before-- she believed that if you dig yourself a hole too deep, you get yourself out. It was a good philosophy, but since Bowen wasn't the most well behaved child, he often got in **big trouble **while his aunt sat by, smirking at his mess that he made. 

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you." Helena looked confused, getting a feeling that she had just heard that, as he walked away, grimacing at the horrid taste of the tonic. 

After a few days of hidden embraces and interrupted moments in the shadows, Bowen stumbled in on Willow in their room that she still shared with her brothers, packing bags. He looked confused. "Wha' are ye doin'?" he asked. She looked up, startled. 

"Oh, uh, well, my brothers and me wanted to go camping for a few days. You know, to just hang out with one another, something we haven't done in a while. Just the three of us. I talked to the Masters and they agreed. Fall will come with us, as well as whatever horses they pick. We'll only be gone a few days." she hurriedly explained, shoving spare shirts into her saddlebag. 

"Bu'- um…wha' abou' me?" 

"What about you?" she snapped. Why was he acting this way? It wasn't like she was never coming back.

"Wha' am I supposed t' do while yer gone? Sit an' knit?" 

"Sure, I need a sweater. Make it for my birthday, for which I got nothing but a concussion from my horse and a half-severed finger from Wind," she said sarcastically, working on shoving breeches and a spare pair of boots into Wind's bag.

He did nothing but grumble for a few minutes, and didn't even offer to help her sort through her arrows and winds when she dropped both their quivers and bolts went sprawling all over the floor. "Why are ye leavin' me?" he spoke at last, all the while she had been separating the last of the arrows and putting them in the right quivers. 

She sighed. "Bowen, sweet, I am not leaving you. I am going _camping_ for a few days. We'll be right in the Royal Forest, not too far away, but away enough so we can get some perspective on things, just before we have to go to Shang. I'll be back before you know it." She looked into his green eyes, still shocked at how much love and worry she saw in them. "Listen, your acting ridiculous. You lasted fifteen years before you met me, and now you can last three or four days without me. Brock and Kit are still here. Helena is always in her kitchen--does she ever leave it, by the way?--and if you suspect any trouble, you can go to the Masters for help. They aren't as scary as they're made out to be, and Eda doesn't bite too hard." Bowen laughed, rather forcefully however. She hugged him, and he squeezed back, not wanting to let her go. 

"Ye _promise_ ye will come back."

"I PROMISE silly. I will be right back, before you even know it." She smiled and shook her head. "You worry too much."

"No. I worry just enough. You don't worry at all." (A/N: why does that sound familiar?) They shared one last embrace, and then she disappeared out the door, bearing three saddlebags, two bows and quivers, and a smile on her face with a lasting flavor of Bowen on her lips.

Willow raced down to the stables to see Wind holding the reigns of two mares, Nightengale, the horse so attached to Wind since the fist time he stepped into the stable, and Glory, a strawberry with a glint of pure mischief in her eyes, in his hands. In the other, he led Falcon's Fall, who he readied himself and looked incredibly proud of himself, especially with all of his body parts intact. "Bravo, brother mine. I am impressed. Now where is the one good sibling?" 

Wind gave her a _look_. "He's saying goodbye to his dear Ema, Smart Mouth. He said meet us here in a minute. Did you talk to Bowen?" 

She sighed and sat on a hay bale, actually the exact one that Bowen lay on a few days earlier. "I don't know. At first he freaked out, then all he could ask about was himself, and then he kissed me and wouldn't let go, hands traveling-"

"Sharing boundaries. Crossing sharing boundaries." Wind interrupted, plugging his ears. "Look, he'll get over it. It just takes time. The protective phase is just that--a phase." 

Willow looked at him, shocked. "Wow. You told me something helpful. I am…well awed." she replied, in all seriousness. He beamed. "Unfortunately, by the time that will happen, we'll have to be going with the Shang. I may never see him again after that." she gnawed her lip, wishing things could be different, just as her other sibling cam trouncing through the doors. 

"Well, lets get this underway. I need some time to commune with nature. Besides, the sooner we leave, the sooner we can return."

"Ema gonna give you that surprise she was talking about when we get back?" Wind asked, handing Glory's reigns over, as well as Falls, more carefully of course.

"As a matter of fact, yes, and how did _you_ know about that?' he asked. Wind chuckled and walked out, leading Nightengale. River followed, pelting him with questions as how he knew about that. Willow strapped her saddlebag on, and mounted, holding her brother bags. 'This won't be so bad. It'll be like the old days,' she thought happily. 

At the same time, however, another remarkable lady was having a few thoughts of her own, as she scoped the troops, preparing them for a move in the next few days. The woman in black scanned the last soldier, sending him to adjust a headpiece gone askew, and then menacingly smirked, the knowledge that the castle would soon be theirs, Tortall in tow. 

Ok--I want to stop there. I really want to post today, and I have been rambling about only a certain part of the story for the longest time. A huge part of the plot comes in next chapter. Writers block has gotten me behind schedule. Also, the sequel idea for this popped into my head, and until I took some notes down, I couldn't concentrate on anything else. Well, review, review, review!!

THANX!


	11. Camping

Ok- all pumped up and ready to write another chap! Wild Mage of Tortall--you have kept me excited about writing, seeing how you are the only to review lately, along with my adorable anonymous reviewer, and peace. Thanx to all you guys!

Wild Mage--As for the paragraph definition from one part to the next part that was mainly a post problem that I am right on top of. The reason they would expect Ema in their room is because she is their assigned maid, and wakes them and brings them breakfast, when she'd there, and those sorts of things. It's her job, and when she's off with River somewhere, the other two are put off routine. See? In addition, River tries to keep his personal life a little more secluded than the other two would, mainly because he is the most reserved. Therefore, his relationship with Ema is very close, but you do not see a lot of it because River prefers to have a more private life. Any other questions about that you can ask me on IM. You know when I'm on. THANX!

Wow-that was long! Anyway, lets get going!

Chapter Eleven: 

Rachel's children rode in silence for about an hour. None knew why, but they had a feeling that speaking at that time would be costly. After awhile, however, the feeling of dreaded silence passed. River checked for thought activity other than their own and Willow could see nothing unusual within her range. They all heaved a sigh of relief. Then they started what they came out to do--be together. They joked and sang silly songs taught to them by Grandam, Miztoo, or their mother. They shared stories, some of which they stared in, most others they did not. The legends told to them of great treasures being stolen, long wars won, and heroes rising as the phoenix from the ashes of defeat were all retold to eager ears. They recalled silly fights they had when they were younger, and that is where we join our young adventurers. 

"Now way! That was an accident! Besides, it was mostly that Steven kids' idea! I only thought to add the goats milk," Willow defended her role in a prank long past. 

"That's not what he told us," River replied in a sing-song tone.

"Are you willing to believe a kid we barely knew at the time to your own flesh and blood kin?" Willow demanded, indignant.

"Yes," chorused her brothers, grinning. Willow sulked for a moment, but quickly perked up when another tale was being told, one which always managed to bring a blush to River's cheeks. 

"Ok, ok--I've had just about enough of story telling time. Can we change the subject please?" a horrible embarrassed River pleaded with his laughing siblings. 

"Fine," Wind sighed. "Hey, just out of sheer curiosity, are we ever gonna stop at a campsite? You know--I just wanted to throw that out there." 

Willow and River exchanged a glance, and shrugged. "Well I guess we can start looking for one. I haven't given that much thought, yet."

"Can we give it thought now? Wind replied.

"Yes, smart ass, we can. When you see a suitable spot, just holler." It seemed a simple enough task, but it was another half-hour before they spoke next, Willow having looked ahead and spied a small clearing. 

They took their time making camp. About an hour later, after suffering a loss of what to do next, they each found a suitable climbing tree to in. They yelled out more jokes, tales, and songs to one another, enjoying a time without any cares or responsibilities. All they were obligated to do was enjoy probably their last time as children. when they went back, they had to realize the full weight of what being an adult meant, since they would have to leave for Galla in about two months. 

They had a great bonding time over the next two days. Each learned things about one another they never before knew. They talked about their mom, and their old slave life. They were finally able to see it all and smile with the full realization that it was all behind them, and wasn't going to happen again. Fall even took in the peace of the time to himself, and let River and Wind ride him a bit, before he lost his patience for new riders and tossed them. 

On the evening of the second full day they were there, they each lay in their bedrolls, staring at the top of their tent, buried in a snow cave. 

"Do you guys ever wonder how different life would be if Mother never died, or we hadn't gone to slavery, or if Grandam hadn't wanted to continue training? " Wind ask after a long silence. 

"I've thought about it once or twice. For one thing, we probably wont be here now. I like to think that we would be in Tortall still, maybe at Olau, but definitely not here. Maybe we would know our Da, too." River said after a moment's consideration.

"You guys think that way?" Willow asked, surprised. "I never have. It seems useless to think about the past--you know, what could have been. It makes more sense to me to think about what could happen. I dream of what will happen when we will go to Galla, and what our lives will be like after we're made Shang, if we're made Shang of course," she said. Her brothers were astonished. It never occurred to them to look at things that way. It had made sense to look back on the road, instead of looking out ahead. "I also think about what will happen if I never get to see Bowen again."

Wind and River stayed silent for a while. They knew it must be hard for her, having to leave him while the relationship was still so new. Ema took the Shang trip pretty well. River had told them when they first planned it She cried a bit, but at least they had had time to be together. Willow had only confessed everything less than a week earlier, and in a little over two months, they were gone, and who knows if they would ever get back to Corus. 

"You know, I never thought that I might not see Ema after we leave. I… I may never meet another one like her ever again! What if she is the one? What if I was supposed to be with her, but since I'm leaving I will miss out and never find love again? Or what if I am supposed to find someone else and I am just wasting my time. But how can I be sure? I don't know which is worse--that I am supposed to be with her and I will miss out or that I am missing out now while the girl I am supposed to be with is waiting for me elsewhere?" River rambled on and on. "Guys, what if--" 

" You keep on talking? Wind cut in. "Yea I may have to call you a girl and kill you to make you stop!" Wind screamed. "Oh Gods! You're worse than one of those airhead courtiers that talk on and on about crap no one cares about!" Everyone was very quiet for a moment before River broke the still air with words.

"Seriously though, what if I never find love again if I leave her? Or what if she won't find love and I will and I see her again with my new love and she sees and is crushed? Or--" 

"AHHH! Stopitstopitstopit!!" Wind pleaded. He even pulled his blanket over his head and shouted into his pillow. 

"OK ok--I got it…. But what if--" 

"I am gonna **KILL** you!" Wind got up and chased his brother around their campsite. Willow lied there, laughing and offering no help to River at all. He, after all, had brought this upon himself, ranting like that. 

Eventually that both calmed down, after Wind tackled River and they wrestled in in the snow for a few minutes before getting too cold and cluttered back in to the tent to their fur-lined bedrolls. (a/n: fur is murder, but necessary in this case, unfortunately… and no, wild mage, I will not keep your little comment in)

"Thanks for the help, Sister Mine. You are such a dear," River grumbled, voice dripping with sarcasm. 

"Anytime, Brother Sweet," she giggled, referring to him by a silly name she called both of them when they were mad at her for laughing at them. It was fun; she thoroughly enjoyed it.

In the pause that followed, all three heard something. Praying that it wasn't a wolf or something equally unpleasant scavenging for a meal in the depths of winter, they got very, very still. River cast out his magical Reading, finding nothing animal-like. He found human thoughts instead.

_'It was a soldier. He was sent to find the source of the noise--them. This was no Royal soldier. He was from a distant country, following orders of his commander, a bitter, resentful, scarred woman. Like all the other soldiers, he wore all black which, at night ,blended with the wintery, brown trees and the darkness. They were here to capture the castle while the Progress left it almost unoccupied of Nobles. The others they would all kill, along with servants. Once the Palace was theirs, slowly Corus would fall under their command, with all of Tortall not far behind. The prophecy had said this would be so, and the Prophecies of Him, the Sage, were never wrong. _

Luckily, he saw nothing but big mounds of snow in the area of the noise, so he left cursing the cold.'

River's eyes snapped open, and, for all that they slept in a snowdrift, he was covered in sweat, which sometimes happened when he used his power to Read troubled minds. 

"Willow," he whispered, very hushed, "can you see anything out there?" She checked, and saw a figure clad in black walking away, disappearing into the night. She squinted and saw a him or her press a notch on a tree and…well, go into the ground. It must a have opened a hatch because she could barely make out a stairwell, but the snow dampened her Vision. If she didn't know better, he was dressed a bit like those Owls that have been an almost constant pester for about four months but had abruptly vanished. 

Willow nodded her head. River swore, almost silently. Wind lied there, incredibly confused and a bit frightened. River doesn't scare easily, unless other's lives were at stake. Willow waited another minute, tapped River on the shoulder, and shook her head no. River grinned, "Ok--we have to get out of here. Pack as quickly as you can." They simply obeyed, not saying a word, reveling in River's family leadership. 

They carefully slipped out of their snowdrift tent cover, collapsing the tent at the same time. Unfortunately, the snow they deftly piled and shaped in the way they were told by the Shang caved in once the tent was halfway out. It made a rather loud "wumph!" in the process, startling Glory. She reared, not knowing what had sent a blast of icy air on her rump. Nightengale was surprised by Glory's actions and started to whinny as well. Fall watched it as if amused, but thankfully did nothing. The noises froze Willow and her brothers. They were immobile, paralyzed for a moment. She knew that the noises could carry into the tunnel stairway. River knew that the noises would probably bring the whole damn rebel army if they didn't do something. All Wind knew was that Glory's bridal was going to get pulled of the branch it was tied to and she might run away. 

Only that knowledge was able to make any of them move, despite the danger the others knew. Wind jogged to the mare, bringing her down and giving her a sugar lump from his pocket. He next consoled Nightengale, trying to get her calm down and stop such a racket. It was too late though. 

A pair of rough hands grabbed Willow from behind, covering her mouth with his hands and the other arm around her neck. At the same time, someone seized River, and almost got Wind, but not before he unhooked Falls bridal and whispered in his ear "I know you would love to spite me, but go get help!" He slapped him on the rear, getting him to move. Fall left with knowledge, an unintentional side affect of the Wildmage's influence. The other horses were taken, fairly peacefully, but the men in black were still concerned about the Mustang that got away. 

"Won't Mistress want that one too?" one asked in rough Common. 

"We got the bedamned noise. Who cares about a horse?" The one holding Willow replied. All three struggled and tried to pry away from the men. Wind got a look at one of River's daggers when his sleeve came up a bit. He unhooked it with his Mind, and jammed it into the thigh of the man holding his brother. River got the idea and moved his hands from the mans arms to his sides where he kept two of his daggers. The man caught on and had two others hold River's arms and search him, cleaning him of eight of his nine daggers and sheaths. They missed one. Wind, however didn't notice they left the one at the small of his back, so he couldn't get at it. 

The man looked at one as they dragged their hostages back to the underground camp. "Hey, kid, where you nab these?"

"Get your mitts off my knives!" River replied hotly, kicking and trying to get out of his captor's hold. 

"That's hardly nice. Not tell me." he held the blade to River's throat, "Where did you steal these? You didn't just find Raven Armory knives lying in the gutter!" 

"I got them from my mother! She was the Shang Falcon and she taught me well!" he defiantly screamed, making his siblings join him in yelling. They continued to shout, bringing more and more warriors in black. They started to break free, and were attacked, four at a time, by the men and/or women. (They still couldn't tell.) None of their real skill showed in their panic. They just lashed out. That was until everyone and everything seemed to stop. The whole mess fell into shadow. River, Willow, and Wind slowly looked up to what blocked the moonlight. It was a huge, landmass of a human. But wait--this was no human. It seemed half giant, judging by the size. It had aqua skin and yellow, beady eyes. Then it clicked to them. 

It was a mix-breed of giant and an ogre. The soldier nearest to him dropped Wind's shirt and stood at attention in front of him. The rest followed in suit. 

Suddenly, they were free, but still surrounded by men. However, they had the sneaking suspicion that any sudden movements would be costly. It might cost them an arm or leg, for instance.

The mass of crossbred immortal moved towards them with a muscular, well, they wouldn't call it grace, but it had a fluid, seamless way of walking. Once (he? It?) stood over them, it picked River up by his neck. He struggled, windpipe squeezed. Willow and Wind refused to stand whist their brother be suffocated. However, it was a futile attempt if their ever was one. They kicked and punched a brick wall. The giant-ogre didn't even flinch to their assaults. No, I take that back, he laughed. He slowly threw his block-like head back and let out a wheezing, part-gasping, part-grunting bellow they could only assume was a laugh. Then, when River was near passing out, he was dumped in heap of gasping in the freezing snow. The mountain of an immortal turned around. The warriors picked up River and seized his brother and sister. They dragged them behind the giant-ogre. Soon, the group came to a hole, the one Willow saw earlier. A narrow, spiral staircase led into an inky depth. The two holding the mounts did not descend, but instead walked off in another direction. 

By then as you can probably tell, the triplets were exhausted and furious, mostly at themselves to have been caught off-guard. But they also were a bit scared. Their future was completely in the dark, like they were. Unfortunately, the crowd kept moving, so they were ushered along. Not too long after a dim crystal globe hung from the ceiling to cast a dull glow. It was hardly anything, but enough for the triplets to see where they were--a dirt tunnel. Impressive. 

River tripped a few times and got stepped on by a perturbed black-man. The man grumbled curses at him. Willow realized how silly she was being. She squeezed her eyes shut, and when she reopened them, everything looked as clear as it would be with the noon sun overhead. She sidled along to help River. 

"Don't look anyone in the face." he whispered, throat dry. When she glanced at him quizzically, he explained, "You don't realize it, but when you do that, your eyes change all cat-like. And they become golden. You can tell that you are up to something." he rasped. She nodded, and kept her head cast down, arm on River's, watching the ground so they could walk better. Wind was doing ok on his own, thankfully. Willow didn't think she could watch out for all three of them. 

A loud, reverberating boom came from up ahead. River prayed it meant light, and people. He wanted to see where he walked. When the immortal dropped him, his ankle twisted under him. He didn't say anything about though, as just breathing had hurt after his windpipe was bruised by a huge, crushing hand. After what had seemed like forever of walking down that dark tunnel led by his sister, River saw more light than the dim glowing crystals hanging periodically down the passageway. The mob emerged into the largest cave River had ever seen. There were tiers covered with tents and packs. There was a huge pit in the middle full of barrels. They were clearly marked with the symbol they knew was liquid fire. It was enough to reduce the whole of Corus to a crater in the ground. 

Ok, I feel like leaving this here. The next chap is already in the process. And I want to thank Wild Mage of Tortall for her help as my beta. It was a long journey Kayden, but it is over. We figured it out, at long last. Thanx….


	12. Escape From Underground

Hello? Is anyone still out there? *Russet dodges the throwing of tomatoes and other fruit and vegetables.* I am SOOOOOOOOOO sorry. I have had a hell of a time working on my story, at all. There was about a whole month where I could not get a single word out. I know you've all heard it before, but I swear I am truly sorry. I will stop blabbing on and now get on with it, as you have waited long enough. (btw- all reviewer recognitions will be held at the end of last chap, as I don't have time to do them right now. Got dance class in a bit. Thanx…)

Chapter Twelve: 

Escape From Underground

The whites shown all the way around River's eyes, as well as his siblings, even Willow, who lost hold of her power at such a shock. The soldiers brushed past them to rejoin the ranks. Behind the pit, over four thousand other black-dressed rebels stood at attention as random officers walked among them, doing what appeared to be an inspection. Their mouths must have been hanging open in astonishment because one of the soldiers turned around and whispered to them, "If you like that, you'll enjoy that this is only four companies. We have 10 here, a thousand to each, with 20 officers per, too." They noticed that it was a female voice from behind the black mask. She walked away to join another group of rebels standing in line to a side cavern. One came out every once in a while, holding a plate of food, a brown mush that steamed. 

After a moment, they snapped out of their stupor to calculate what Corus was up against. Enough liquid fire to fill a lake, which is what Corus would me reduced to, about 10,200 warriors trained well, and an unknown plan. 

And even if they miraculously escaped to warn someone, who could they warn? And who would believe them? They were in elbow deep in the compost heap. 

The crossbred divine being returned to them and looked down into three pairs of amazed, yet terrified eyes. For that brief, horrifying moment, the world stopped for the thing to see their souls that feared what would become of them. He, it, or whatever waved with his gigantic hand to follow him. Meekly, they became his small shadow, following behind without any protest. Even with all they knew, they were wise enough to know when they were beaten. And they were also a outnumbered by a few men. 

Eventually, they stopped in front of a woman. She wore all-black too, but no mask. And she needed one the most. Burn scars covered her neck, chin, cheeks, and left ear. Probably once a beauty, it now it hurt to look at her for too long. She turned to smile at them, white teeth showing in a broad smile. She seem to study them for a moment too long, and then she spoke, harsh voice barking orders too often. 

"So," she rasped, almost like an evil cat purring, "these are the cause of all the trouble? I would have expected something…well, bigger." She sounded almost disappointed. Willow glanced at Wind out of the corner of her eye. Normally, being called small would have spurred him into an argument, but luck was in, and his wits had yet to go begging. "Put them in a holding tent, and guard it. Fail me, and let them get away, I'll have your heads for my collection." The soldiers looked to one another, unsure if she was serious. She looked down at a bunch of papers in her hands, and when they were still there as she looked up, she barked, "**Now**!" They escaped from her cold stare at a run, prisoners and captors both. 

~*~

Three hours and many complaints later, Willow and her brothers sat, miserable, tired, and angry, in a large tent, tied to the support pole in the center. 

"Willow, River, I'm hungry," Wind informed his siblings.

"For the thousandth time, do you see anything around here to eat?" River bitterly answered. 

"No, but I thought-"

"That's a stretch, Willow interrupted.

"Guys, how many times have we had this exact same conversation? Four? Five?" River inquired.

"Try seventeen." sighed Willow.

"Really, I wouldn't have guessed it has been that excruciating." River thoughtfully replied. 

"So have either have you figured a way for us to get out of here?" Wind persisted. 

"Wind, we didn't have a plan the last time you asked, and no, we don't have one now." 

"Well, it never hurts to ask, now does it?"

"Considering it's you, yes, it can hurt to ask- over and over and over again!" River tried to strangle his brother, but all his attempts were in vain for his hands were tied with clever, intricate knots. "What I wouldn't give for a glaive. I'd rip them up from top to bottom!" he passionately exclaimed. 

"Too bad they took your daggers. How are we gonna get those back? They aren't exactly replaceable." Wind sighed. River's head snapped up. 

"Not all- they missed the one at my lower back! But I just can't reach it…Can you move it Wind?"

Wind tried to see the bulge where the hilt would be under River's clothes. Unfortunately, he couldn't twist around the pole that way. "I'm sorry, I can't see it."

"SO?" River demanded hotly.

"You know I can't move things If I can't see them!" Wind replied, equally cross. River rolled his eyes.

"That's all in your head. You only think you can't move it because you think you have to see it. You don't! Now try again!" 

Wind twisted in several directions, trying his hardest to see it, but he gave up. "I can't do it!" he exclaimed, frustrated.

"Stop trying to see it with your eyes! See the dagger in your mind. Like you do when you move fire! You can't stare straight at that! Close you eyes," he ordered. Wind resisted. "Close them!" Wind closed his eyes, but not without a scowl. "Now, picture my dagger. Call it to you or whatever you do," River told him

Wind clenched his eyes, much like Willow did. He pictured the dagger in his mind, and ordered it to come out of the sheath. Wind felt it struggle, trying to pull out, but it was held in by a strap with a buckle. "River? Since when do you buckle in your daggers?" he asked, angry at his brother's folly. However, as he spoke, he masterfully started to undo the buckle, happy that this was working. 

"Well sorry. Geeze- you'd think he was perfect…" River mumbled. Willow chuckled quietly. Such bickering between them amused her.

Wind slid the knife from its sheath, careful not to nick his brother. He brought it up the length of the pole and around to get right in front of him. 

Then of course, someone barged into the tent, just in time to see a dagger float in midair and fall to the ground, burying itself halfway to the hilt in loose dirt and churned up stones. The shocked young sergeant scrambled free of the tent's flaps, which he tangled himself in.

They could hear his report to a superior officer. "And then it fell to the ground, it did," he finished. They saw a silhouette of a woman nod her head, deep in thought. 

After a moments pause, she told him, "Good work. Now see to it that the troops are warned." He saluted her and then walked past her, only to meet his death on the dirty, stony floor, decapitated. The woman, the one from before they realized, took out a bit of cloth and ran it down her sword, tossing the bloody handkerchief down on the corpse when she was done. 

"Dispose of that." she growled, and the outline of a soldier dragging what was the body, severed head in his or her hands, vanished into darker parts of the cave. The woman turned towards the entrance of the tent. 

"So, is what the, uh, **ex**-officer reported true?" purred the sinister lady.

She glanced to the dirt floor and the dagger confirmed it. "Either it must be, or you've had a unauthorized visitor." She glared at them, but they never looked higher than their laps. "From your faces, I'll have to go with the Power." She moved herself to be right in front of River. "Now, who did this?" she coaxed, trying to sound friendly, but failing miserably. 

River looked away from her, at his sister's shoes. The woman patiently waited, staring at him, as if trying to read his soul, but eventually, someone called out a name, and she flinched. "So you're going to be a tough pony to break, aren't you? We'll see how you fare after no food for about…..let's see….three days?" Wind felt his stomach growl at the thought. She smiled menacingly. "Give that a once-over and I'll be back for your answer in a bit." The woman walked out, leaving dread in her wake. 

They waited until her shadow was out of sight. Willow made double sure. Then the hysterics began.

"No food?! _No food?!_ Three days?! _Three days?!_" Wind exclaimed, jerking himself left and right with panic. 

"Wind stop it!" Willow cried. He was moving the wooden post they were lashed to. It would collapse if he kept on like this.

"Willow, I can't see you!" he started to twist left and right, trying to see his sister. "Where are you?"

"Wind calm down- I'm right here!" she called, trying to reassure him.

"**WHERE?**" Wind turned over his shoulder with all his might and felt the support pole lose ground and slide from under them. 

"**_Wind_**!" Willow and River's voices were muffled by the huge tent crashing around their heads.

~*~

Bowen slouched by Fall's empty stall, muttering to himself about one thing or another. Kit and Brock sat by, mournfully witnessing their friend go nuts. "Pull yourself together man!" Brock scolded. "They'll be back in a few days."

"An' wha' 'appens after tha'? They'll be leavin' forever! Wha' if she never returns? Wha' if I never-" Bowen rambled, completely distraught.

"What if! What if! Stop this nonsense!" Kit exploded. She crossed to him and sat herself right beside him. Making their face inches apart, she caught his eyes and made the gaze hold while she said "Look at me. Your are sounding like a drunk in the street," she yelled at him. "Like it or not, she's leaving, probably not so happily now, but it's her dream. Now perk up- there's plenty of hay to pitch and I know some stalls that could stand a good mucking. Hop to it!" She pulled him to his feet, forced a shovel into his grip and pointed him in the direction of some dirty stalls. 

"Do you think he'll be ok?" Brock inquired.

"Yea, I think so. What a woman to have an impact like that…" Kit walked away, thinking that Willow didn't know how lucky she was, and how stupid for leaving someone behind that was so devoted to her. 

" He'll be fine...Lucky bastard," Brock murmured angrily. 

Bowen took his time cleaning and mucking, then grooming and working the horses a bit, just to keep himself occupied for as long as 

possible. The day after that, he spent doing the same thing, keeping himself busy to keep his mind off Willow. 

It wasn't working. 

At dawn of the third day, he awoke with a start, hearing something banging wildly on one of the doors. They were keeping them closed and locked, for the winter winds kept bursting the doors open scaring the horses and the hostlers for that matter. 

But this was no wind. It sounded almost like…horseshoes? Bowen threw off his blanket and climbed down a ladder. Carefully, he moved towards the door and gripped the lock uneasily. Lifting it with haste, hoping his traitor body would listen to his head that kept telling to stop, he set the board aside and clenched the handle. 

He didn't have time, however, to open the door, as it burst open and a huge form came rushing past him. Icy winds ripped at Bowens old breeches and snow and sleet bit his bare chest, arms, feet and face. Steeling himself from retreating to the loft, he grabbed the doors and pushed against the blasts of wintery air. With a lot of force, and much colorful language, he succeeded in closing them and slammed the lock into place. He almost forgot about the source of it all. Whatever had opened the doors so fiercely now prowled the stall isles. He could hear the hoof beats on the well-packed earthen floor. Chasing the noise, and being followed by Kit wrapped in a sheet and little else and Brock in breeches who were awoken too, Bowen discovered Falcon's Fall. (A/N: nothing in the k/br folks, don't read into that too much or you'll start seeing things that aren't there)

"Wha' in tha…" he mumbled to himself. Giving an earsplitting whistle, he summoned Fall to him. Fall had come to accept all the hostlers, even if he only liked Willow. The horse sped to him, nearly knocking him down in search for something. He stamped and whinnied and tossed his head back, rattling his bridal. For a second Bowen thought he wanted his tack to come off, just before realizing that it was still on, and Willow was no where to be seen. Bowen stood up, carefully as to avoid Fall's hooves, and placed his hands on the horse's bridal, bringing him down and making him look into his eyes. "Something happened to them," Bowen realized. Before he knew when he was doing, he cast his wild magic onto the animal, hoping this would work like the Wildmage made it work. Never before had he tried this, and with such a small amount of magic in him, less even that his father, there was no reason for it to work. The minutes painstakingly passed as Bowen formed his magic with Fall's, hoping to get into his mind. At last, he felt himself sink into the last bit of Fall, and when he opened his eyes, he saw himself. Now he was inside Fall, who didn't appreciate it much, but didn't have much of a choice. Luckily, he didn't have search for what he wanted. It was all at the very surface of the stallion's mind. But what he saw, he wasn't completely prepared for. 

'_Fall saw a man dressed in black from head to hoof. He snuck around. Luckily, with the light snowfall, the darkness of night, and brown trees, the stranger couldn't see them. Which was odd, given three horses in the woods without riders is not common. Then, the stranger left and his Girl and the two boys crawled out of their den. They took something out of it and all the snow on top collapsed. Glory, the nice mare on his left, got a rush of icy wind and whinnied. One of the boys tried to quiet her, but before he could do anything, Nightengale, the other mare, started up as well. Fall was too clever to get all jumpy over some snow, so he kept his cool and kinda just laughed at them, in his own horse way._

The masked man snuck up behind them, bringing others and there was struggle. The masked men grabbed Glory and Nightengale and took them away. Someone tried to get him but he wasn't going to stand for that. Instead he ran away, running here. It started snowing too much to see anything, so it took far longer than he hoped. At least he didn't have a rider. But he kept going because his Girl needed help, and she seemed to fancy this human well enough…'

Bowen snapped back into his body and felt for his magic, realizing his Wild Magic drained. His reserves were gone. But that didn't matter. 

__

"They 'ave been kidnapped. _We_ 'ave to save 'em." Kit and Brock looked to one another wide eyed, and then watched Bowen collapse, physically and magically exhausted.

~*~

Struggling with the heavy canvas folds draped over them, the triplets desperately tried to get untied from the pole and get out of the tent Wind so masterfully brought down on them. They began to hear footsteps of the soldiers that were all around. Willow Saw them and got the knots undone as fast as she could, finishing as the "owls" straightened things out and almost had the tent lifted off them. Just as they were fully uncovered, Willow shot out and grabbed the dagger, sticking it in her boot. 

"What happened here?" demanded a soldier who wished to keep his head on. 

"We don't know. It just fell. Shoddy tent if you ask me," Willow insolently replied. 

"Little miss, you had better hope that tongue of yours doesn't get cut out one day-" snapped an advancing soldier wielding a knife recognized by the triplets as one of River's. He was stopped by the one who asked them what happened. 

"Compose yourself Jaifos. They'll get theirs soon enough, if Commander Williams has anything to do with it. She's with the Bosses. She'll take care of them when she's done." This soldier was a bit too self-assured for Willow's taste. She gave him a sour look and inched as close to Wind as she could. She got right next to him as the Self-Assured soldier talked to the Angry one with River's dagger. He looked down at her and she pointed to her boot. Wind saw the top of the hilt and a bit of the opal flashed with the torchlight. He nodded slightly and the corners of his mouth shifted upwards for a brief moment. Willow looked to keep an eye on the guards, and River, know magically wise to the situation, helped her. Wind slowly watched her boot's bulge move. He may have been able to move things without looking at them now, but he still preferred to see them. The dagger hilt was completely out now, and the blade was showing. Once it was out of the boot, he brought it carefully up her leg, where the soldiers couldn't see it. Once it was right at the small of Willow's back, Wind stopped it and River inched slowly to her. Instead of having a dagger float in the air between, this was the better plan. 

River reached them, grabbed it, and in a swift motion reminding Willow of lightening and molten metal all at once threw it into a group of soldiers where it lodged itself into the neck of the Angry soldier. The room seemed to explode…

~*~

They tried their best to revive their comrade, but in the end, only Fall was able to. Bowen sat up, nursing what felt like 3 broken fingers, and glared at the horse, who he swore wore a smug expression. 

That smugness turned to impatience as the two-leggers weren't going near fast enough to make Fall happy, however. Didn't they understand that his Girl was in danger? He snorted and stamped to show that he meant business. They noticed him after that, and things got going a bit faster. Not much, but a bit anyway. Finally, they were ready to go. Bowen stood nearby, while 4 other two-leggers were mounted on some other poor People. (Fall still pitied other horses for their easiness with others. If pity is an emotion he can have.)

"Thank you for coming, Masters." Kit said. Eda and Hakuin nodded, rather sleepily. 

"Let's just get this going. It's too early to be talkative," Eda yawned. Bowen inched towards Fall, in hope of keeping him calm by not making too sudden a movement. Fall saw his motive and snorted. After the initial struggle Bowen sat atop Falcon's Fall with a triumphant grin on his face. The search party got moving shortly thereafter. 

"Does Falls know where he's going?" Brock asked after about 3 hours of riding in a snow flurries. "My fingers are getting numb."

"Getting?" Kit mumbled. 

"Look- I don' know. I'm no' leadin' this beast. 'E's jus' walkin' on 'is own." Bowen grumbled. Kit and Brock weren't the only ones miserable. They all were. And to top it off, Fall was taking them in what appeared to be circles. They were closer to finding The Goddess' Forest Temple, a place of Myth, than finding Wind and the others. It wasn't until they had been riding for another three quarters of an hour that anything had looked like people had been there. 

And had they!

The remains of half a teakettle, a stack of wood, and the wooden poles of a tent, broken in several places of course, laid on the ground around a mound of snow rather out-of-place. "Their snowdrift cave fell in, probably as they took out their tent." 

"But this was done hours ago. Why would they be taking apart camp in the middle of the night?"

"Maybe they didn't do this. Maybe it was their captors."

"If it was, they sure didn't clean up very well. They left a trail to follow too. Look at the broken trees, and the unusual tracks in the snow……"

"Hey, what is that. I've never see those tracks before. They're…..HUGE."

"If I didn't know better, I'd say it was a giant…..with webbed feet?"

"This gets stranger and stranger. They wouldn't run off in the middle of the night unless they suspected something foul."

"Bowen, what did you say Fall saw?" Bowen and the other two had to get yanked out of their trance. The Shang Warriors had dismounted and masterfully deduced what might have happened to them, with just looking at the campsite. Bowen stumbled with his tongue for a moment while he remembered how to speak. 

"S-Sir? 'E, um, saw a man dressed in black come an' look aroun', an' then go away. After a few seconds, Willow, River, and Wind came out of their tent an' tried to pull it ou' of the snow, but the cave collapsed and' scared the other 'orses. Then, more soldiers came an' took em away- but no' withou' a fight! An' then they tried to grab Fall an 'e ran to us. I dunno wha' could've made those footprints, bu' tis no' natural, no' in these woods" The Shang trusted his judgment. He did know Corus like the back his hand.

They remounted and circled the campsite a few times before hearing a deafening "BOOM!" It shook the very ground. Snow fell from tree branches. The horses, even Fall, whinnied in terror. Not far ahead, in the dim dawn light, they saw people emerging…..from the ground?

A war cry sounded out of the rumbling. It was actually three cries. Willow, River, and Wind burst up through the snow, billowing smoke emerging after them. They were filthy, sweaty, and most of all, _angry_. Each held a knife, one of River's in the hands of each, and charged at the Black-dressed soldiers, all mercy non-existent. In a matter of about 6 swift movements, they had all the men, or women, pinned in the snow. The whole group, Shang and all, merely sat atop their horses, breath taken away at the fury emitting from them. 

Willow was the first to notice them, sitting in the clearing where the remnants of camp lay scattered on the snow. She poked her brothers, and they smiled. 

"So, what took you so long?"

A/N: sigh……and that's it, for now anyway. Ok, please don't get angry, but I will have an explanation of all the events I know you are dying to hear about in the next chapter. And I promise it will be up FAR sooner than this one was. I cannot believe it too this long. So sorry. Please forgive by giving russet a nice review? Please? Thanx…..


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